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#the stream literally destroyed me
kadextra · 3 months
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I’ve slept on it, it’s a new day, I feel like can say that Sweet Despair is the best lore stream I’ve ever watched
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I am still thinking about tmagp 2, did you know that ep was written specifically for me?
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youarestellate · 2 months
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new adrianne lenker album is dropping this friday if you even care
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douwatahima · 11 months
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the way that I already miss f.r.i.d.a. and it's only been like five seconds 💔
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plushiehamuko · 1 year
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the thing about my kaede playlist is that a good half of the songs are on there bc of such specific tenkaede scenarios that it seems like i put them on there randomly to anyone else but me
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lemondropletters · 1 year
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I know I’m making a joke but you really don’t understand how angry I am at the recent news.
[Video Captions: “Why are you the way that you are? / Honestly, every time I try to do something fun or exciting, you make it not that way. / I hate so much about the things that you choose to be.”]
#just when I finally accepted the fact we won’t get a season three#and I convinced myself everything would be okay because atleast I can rewatch it whenever I want#what does Disney do?#I really just…they are so unbelievable…#just so they don’t have to write it on their taxes?? come on man!#and now they’re going to raise prices?#‘confident that we’re on the right path for streaming’s long-term profitability’#literally what are you talking about??#Not only do you cancel shows that don’t make you immediate money—#now your removing them since they are supposedly taking money out of your billion dollar corporation wallet#and then you proceed to renew the most médiocre passionless projects#your literally sabotaging yourself??#cause guess what if you don’t make the people giving you money happy they’re going to leave and find someone else that can#i even had to cancel plans and stay home because of how mentally and physically draining this news has made me feel#I’m not even trying to be dramatic…just stuff like this hits me hard for some reason#I know I can find the show online somewhere but still.#the people who worked on this must feel terrible…I feel so bad#my sister: it’s like if Van Gogh painted something and tried to give it to the museum and they just tell him#‘no we don’t want any more of your art. and also we’re going to destroy every single painting you’ve made. have a nice day!’ :)#i might talk more about this later but for now I’ll stop…sorry if I made you upset I just needed to get this off my chest#mysterious benedict society#the mysterious benedict society#tmbs
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Characters ranked based on whether they should destroy Las Nevadas
I'm going to cry: Foolish, Fundy
Yeah I'd be okay with this: Dream, Ranboo, Karl
Not my first choice but has potential: Quackity, Jschlatt, Purpled, Wilbur, Sam, Sapnap, Tubbo
Lmao can you imagine: Connor, Michael McChill, George
Absolutely the fuck not: Techno, Charlie, Tommy
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Studying sustainability has taught me that the answer to things like “is it better to use paper or plastic bags?” always ends up being something like “we would need to perform an extremely in depth study on the entire life cycle of both types of bags from virgin material collection to product recollection, compare things like amount of product each type of bag can carry, material usage per bag, how frequently double-bagging is occurring, and take into account a ridiculous number of factors down to the fuel efficiency of the trucks that transport them and even after all that we would have to try to find a way to compare whether the higher carbon emissions of producing and transporting paper bags is better than the fact that the plastic bags will be plastic bags for the next thousand years. And at the end of the day all this research would ultimately not be particularly useful because our waste collection streams in the US are so fucking bad it’s depressing.”
And then someone will ask about reusable bags and you’d have to do the study again only to reveal that you need to use the reusable bag like a couple thousand times to offset the carbon emissions it takes to make the reusable bag and make it worth it over disposable bags and that’s not taking into consideration bags breaking before then or being forgotten about completely.
The answer always leads to “it’s incredibly complicated but our current practices are so terrible we would need a full scale restructuring of our economy and practices to such a degree that can literally never happen because our government is lobbied by the people who make money off of said unsustainable practices.”
So the answer to “paper bags or plastic bags?” is that we need to destroy capitalism
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zooophagous · 1 year
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So why do you hate the advertising industry?
Hokay so.
Let me preface this with some personal history. It's not relevant to the sins of the advertising industry perse but it illustrates how I started to grow to hate it.
I wanted to be a veterinarian growing up, but to be a vet you basically have to be good enough to get into medical school. I do not have the math chops or discipline to make it in medical school. I went into art instead, and in a desperate attempt to find some commercial viability that didn't involve moving to California, I went into graphic design.
I've been a graphic designer for about seven or eight years now and I've worn a lot of hats. One of them was working in a print shop. Now, the print shop had a lot of corporate customers who had various ad campaigns. One of them was Gate City Bank, which had a bigass stack of postcards ordered every couple months to mail to their customers.
Now, paper comes from Dakota Paper, and they make their paper the usual way. Somewhere far, far from our treeless plain there is a forest of tall trees. These trees are cut down and put on big fossil fuel burning trucks and hauled to a paper mill that turns them into pulp while spewing the most fowl odors imaginable over the neighboring town and loads the pulp up with bleach to give it a nice white color.
Then the paper is put on yet another big truck and hauled off to the local paper depot, then put on another big truck and delivered to my print shop, where I turned the paper into postcards telling people to go even deeper into debt to buy a boat because it's almost summer. The inks used are a type of nasty heat sensitive plastic that is melted to the surface of the paper with heat. Then the postcards are put on yet ANOTHER truck and sent to the bank, which puts them on ANOTHER truck and finally into the hands of their customers, who open their mail and take one look at the post card and immediately discard it.
Heaps and heaps and literal hundreds of pounds of literal garbage created at the whim of the marketing team several times a year. And thats just one bank in one city.
I came to realize very quickly that graphic design was the delicate art of turning trees into junk mail.
And wouldn't you know it there are a TON of companies that basically only do junk mail. Many of them operate under the guise of a "charity," sending you pictures of suffering children or animals and begging for handouts and when they get those handouts the executives take a nice fat cut, give some small token amount to whatever cause they pay lip service to, and then put the rest of the cash right back into making more mailers. "Direct mail marketing" they call it.
Oh but maybe it's not so bad, you can advertise online after all. Now that there's decent ad blocker out there and better anti-virus ads usually don't destroy your computer anymore just by existing.
Except now when I search for the exact business I want on Google it's buried under three or four different "promoted search items" tricking me into clicking on them only to shoot themselves in the foot because I searched for the specific result I wanted for a reason and couldn't use those other websites even if I felt like it.
And now we have advertising on YouTube and on every streaming service, forcing more and more eyes onto the ad for the brand new Buick Envision that parks itself because you're too stupid to do it on your own.
Oh thats ok maybe I'll get Spotify premium and go ad free and listen to some podcasts- SIKE we have the hosts of your show doing the song and dance now. Are you depressed and paranoid from listening to my true crime podcast about murdered and mutilated teenagers? That's ok, my sponsor Better Help can keep you sane enough to stay alive and spend more money.
It's gotten so terrible that now you have content farms, huge hubs of shell companies that crank out video after video to get more and more precious clicks. Which if the videos were innocuous maybe that wouldn't be so awful except now you have cooking hacks that can actually burn your house down and craft hacks that can electrocute you being flung into your eyes at the speed of mach fuck so some slimy internet clickbait jockey doesn't need to get a real job.
It of course goes without saying that animals are also relentlessly exploited by clickbait companies that will put them in compromising situations on purpose to create a fake fishing hack video or even just straight up killing them for sport by feeding small animals to a pufferfish that rips them apart for the camera.
And all of this, ALL of this doesn't even touch how adveritising is the death of art in general. Queer topics, any kind of interesting art, any kind of sex or substance use topics are scrubbed clean and hidden at the behest of advertisers.
Sex education, a nude statue, topics such as racism or sexism or bigotry in general have tags purged or hidden from search, even life saving information about SDTs or drug use, because if someone saw that and complained then Verizon might sell fewer tablets and we can't fucking have that.
Conservative talking heads often bitch and moan that they're being censored on social media. The stupid part is, they're right! They are being censored! But it's not by a woke mob, it's by ATT and Coca Cola not wanting their adspace sharing screen time with their stupid fucking opinions.
However, they won't ever figure that out, because the talking heads they get their marching orders from like Tucker and Jones ALSO rely on the sweet milk flowing from the sponsorship teat and they aren't about to turn on their meal ticket so they have to come up with even stupider shit to say for the train to continue rolling.
I managed to rant this far without even getting into the ads I see for the beauty industry. The other day a botox ad described wrinkles as "moderate to severe crows feet" as if wrinkles are a symptom of a fucking serious disease! Like having a flaw in your skin is a medical problem that you need thousands of dollars of literal botulism toxin to fix! I was incandescent with anger.
Advertising is a polluting, censoring, anti educational and anti art industry at it's very core. It destroys human connections, suppresses human thought and makes us hate our own bodies. It ads no value, actively detracts from value, and serves no real purpose and I believe it should be almost if not entirely banned.
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Disconnected Thoughts on Art Reproduction:
Hokusai's Great Wave fascinates me because, unlike almost every other artwork in that bracket of fame, it was never a bespoke piece that was only later reproduced. It was a commercial print right from the start, and while versions of it can be identified as belonging to different print runs, there is no meaningful 'original' aside from the long-since-discarded printing plates.
Even better, this state has been imposed on artworks that were once unique. In 2021, the art collective MSCHF bought an Andy Warhol sketch at auction for $20,000, made 999 meticulous forgeries of it, shuffled them to destroy any record of which was the original, and sold each piece for $250 as Possibly Real Copy of 'Fairies' by Andy Warhol, by MSCHF.
As with many smartass art collectives, MSCHF's projects range from eye-rolling to kinda clever to brilliant, but I think this is their magnum opus. It has exactly the kind of unwieldy literal title I adore. The original work has been arguably destroyed, but in a way that Warhol would applaud. It's the most pointed way to ask art buyers, do you care about the actual artistry of the work or just the bragging rights of owning the original?
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Artistic domains where reproduction is trivial are often prone to the Superstar Problem: Why would I listen to the world's 50th-best cellist when I can stream all the Yo-Yo Ma I want just as easily? NFTs were pitched as a solution to this, marking the original or master copy of a natively-digital work to let it retain value. But even if the crypto market didn't have its own 2008 every few weeks, I don't want fine-art auction houses to be the future of digital art, especially when there are already plenty of existing ways to mitigate the problem. A fursona, a tabletop-game character, a niche Blorbo, etc. are all bespoke value-adds that enable a much greater range of artists to get commissions. But these require a culture of art fans who don't care about flipping it at Christie's, often overlapping with fannish cultures where plenty of artists operate at all experience levels.
I don't have any tidy conclusions for this, but I just want to say that an earlier version of this process - "paint me a biblical scene, and put me in it to flex my wealth and piety" - culminated in one of the funniest artworks I've ever seen, Francisco de Zurbarán's Christ Crucified (With Donor):
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thesugarhole · 1 year
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god forgive me i think jabroni mike is the ideal type of "just some guy" to get babo personality build insp from
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jamminvroomvroom · 7 months
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everything.
ln x fem!reader
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in which you’re his best friend until you’re something more
hi! here you go lmao. probs the fluffiest thing i’ve ever written and i am obsessed with the concept! thank you for being here and baring with me - i loved writing this one and i’d love to hear what you think! huge shoutout to my girlies @mcmuppet and @lavenderlando ily both!
songs that set the mood: pink and white by frank ocean, daylight by harry styles, angel by finneas, enchanted by taylor swift, hate to be lame by lizzy mcalpine
warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, language, friends to lovers brain rot, slight corruption kink, readers first time, qatar angst
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“do you wanna talk about it?” you whispered softly, your hand resting on lando’s sagged shoulder.
your eyes were fixed on the third place plaque on his table in front of you, his very much fixed on the floor.
“no.” his reply was short and sweet, his tone conveying exactly how deflated he was.
you’d only flown in to qatar this morning, the october sun hitting you hard as you walked into the paddock, drastically different to the london climate you’d grown accustomed to. lando had all but begged you to come, your evening before spent on the phone, and you knew that he needed a friend, otherwise he never would have asked you to fly halfway around the world.
friends. that’s what you were.
you’d hugged him tight and told him that the weekend had to get better, and then his teammate put it on pole and got his first win. so, yeah, maybe it wasn’t going to get better and not even the podium could cheer him up.
his radio messages had hurt your heart, your chest aching as he self deprecated in the cockpit. he owned his mistakes, sure, but he’d taken it a step too far and you knew you had a job to do. you’d do anything, quite literally anything, to cheer him up.
you’d always found a way to be there for eachother, your friendship spanning five long years after you’d knocked a coffee over a guy you quickly recognised as the new mclaren driver. both nineteen and awkward as hell, you’d um-ed and er-ed and danced around one another in the busy pret in central london, chucking tissues at him, attempting to mop up the frothy mess all over his white sweatshirt.
eventually you’d just burst into laughter, lando immediately following suit. your cheeks were hurting from smiling at the curly haired stranger, intrigued by the very way his faced moved when he laughed, and he’d looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky, not like someone that had just destroyed a brand new hoodie.
and just like that, a connection was born.
you’d gotten used to having a friend for only half the year, but he never let you feel the distance. paddock passes often fell through your letter box and you could usually be located in the background of his streams when he was home long enough to do them, the amount of times you’d been wrongfully accused of being his girlfriend a list as long as your arm. even in those moments of awkwardness, friendship prevailed and you both managed to crack up together about the conspiracy that you were more than friends.
and what an intriguing conspiracy it was.
“we should get you back to the hotel, you need to get some rest.” you told him, standing from the sofa and offering him your hand.
lando grabbed it, squeezing, his own special way of telling you he was grateful for your presence, and let you pull him up. as he tried to walk towards the door, you stopped him, hands on his shoulders. you wanted to shake him, tell him how fucking great he was. you didn’t think he’d appreciate that after an intense session in the car.
“hey, look at me. you got this, okay?” you smiled reassuringly, managing to get the smallest crack back from him, his lips upturning ever so slightly. something in his eyes told you that you’d succeeded, a small glimmer of an emotion that you didn’t know how to unpack.
friends.
that’s what you were.
-
you tried to ignore how touchy lando was being. you figured he just needed some comfort, physical touch not out of bounds in your friendship, but a new level had been reached.
on the entire walk through the paddock to his car, his hand sat comfortably on the small of your back, despite the endless amount of cameras pointed at you. his hand skimmed your thigh in the car, accidentally, you told yourself, and you had to avert your eyes when his hand graced your headrest as he reversed out of the parking space. knowing that he needed you in qatar so desperately that he’d flown you out was one thing, the way he was treating you once you got there was something else.
he’d opened your door when you pulled up at the hotel valet, helping you out of the car, his hand tucked in yours for a second longer than necessary. once again, his hand seemed to be glued to your lower back the whole way to the elevator.
the ding of the lift had you both shuffling out onto your floor, trailing towards your rooms in a heavy silence, something more left unsaid in the air.
you reached your door first, coming to a stop and shuffling around in your bag for your keycard.
“um, i need to be at the track early tomorrow. breakfast?” lando asked.
you turned to look at him, nodding your head profusely.
“of course, just drop me a message and i’ll come down and meet you.” you affirmed, your fingers finally grasping the piece of plastic that had, of course, fallen to the very bottom of your tardis of a tote bag.
you expected him to leave, but he lingered, as if there was something else on his mind.
“you okay?” you raised an eyebrow, unlocking your door. lando seemed to snap out of it then, awkwardly running a hand through his curls that had taken a brutal hit from the humidity. you liked the look on him, nonetheless.
“yeah, i- yeah, i think i just need some sleep.”
“okay, well, goodnight. let me know if you need anything.” you disappeared through the door then, the tension getting the better of you. you slumped against the shut door, wondering what he so clearly wanted to say.
-
the clock read 1:32am on your bedside.
a faint tapping had woken you up, and you groggily scanned the room, trying to find the source of the noise. you deduced that it was coming from your door, letting out a groan as you threw the cosy comforter off and trudged towards the disturbance.
you cracked it open, peeking through the gap and coming face to face with your best friend.
“lando?” you croaked, opening the door further.
“i’m sorry, can’t sleep. can i come in? it’s okay if not, i just didn’t know what to do.” he sounded so shy, something you didn’t recognise in the man stood before you, and you quickly swung the door open, ushering him inside.
“come, sit.” you waved for him to follow you across the room to the foot of your bed. he sat down beside you, the mattress dipping.
you patted your lap and he instantly knew what to do, laying down with his head in your lap. it’s something he did quite frequently when you were sprawled on his sofa at home, watching a shitty movie that neither of you were really paying attention to. you’d often be looking at him, praying he didn’t notice, and he’d be playing with your fingers, tracing the palm of your hand.
you couldn’t help yourself, running your hand through his curls. you didn’t mean to, stomach instantly twisting with embarrassment, but it was quickly twisting with something else. his eyes fluttered shut, a low groan falling from the back of his throat. it made your thighs clench, and he must have noticed, the tiniest smirk on his face.
“you okay?” lando asked, his eyes still shut, a look of relaxation finally on his face.
you coughed awkwardly.
“yeah, sorry. are you comfy?” you said teasingly, trying to cut the growing tension in the room.
“i am now, could fall asleep here.”
“you can, you know.” you whispered. his eyes flew open. your heart was hammering in your chest. this was new territory and you were worried you’d fucked up. sleepovers were also a norm, but one of you usually retired to a guest room, not the other side of eachothers beds.
“you want me to stay?” his voice rose in surprise.
“well, i mean, you can if you want, like, there’s space and-“ you rambled.
“do you want me to stay?” he repeated.
“is it gonna help?” you questioned cautiously.
“yes.” the confidence in which he replied did something to you.
“then stay.”
you crawled up the mattress, falling back into the place you’d so comfortably occupied just minutes before. you laid so still, watching with quiet curiosity as he slipped his hoodie off. his shirt came with it ever so slightly, riding up over his back, and you had to pry your eyes away, the ache between your thighs still ever present.
what on earth were you doing, allowing your best friend to crawl into bed with you? emotions were running so high, but it felt like a switch had been flipped ever since you hit the tarmac in qatar. every look, every touch was fuelled by something different to what it had been before and you weren’t sure if it was a good thing or not.
lando turned towards you, making his way back over to the bed. he looked apprehensive, as if he was thinking the same thoughts as you, wondering if there was any logic in what was about to happen. he seemed to come to the conclusion that this was, in fact, happening, crawling into bed beside you.
“is this okay?” lando breathed into the darkness of the room, his hand brushing yours. you were both as still as planks, mere centimetres separating you, the only light coming from the lamp beside the bed.
“yeah,” you took a deep breath, preparing for the words that were about to come tumbling out. “i’ve just never done this before.” you spoke quickly, sucking in another breath as you finished.
“you’ve never…”
“i’ve never shared a bed… like this.”
“like what?”
“with a… a guy?” your anxiety riddled words came out more like a question than an answer.
“oh. oh.” it seemed to dawn on lando then. “so, you’ve never… oh. i mean i can go if you’re uncomfortable.”
“lando, no, i just wanted you to know. i’m always comfortable with you.” you said, quietly baring your soul to him.
you weren’t sure why you’d basically told him you were a virgin. it held no relevance, he was just here to sleep, for some friendly comfort. he was not here for any other reason. and yet here you were, spilling the beans, all over the bed you found yourself sharing.
“i didn’t come here to, you know. i just needed you.”
you tried to ignore the pang in your chest and the annoying, minuscule butterfly springing to life in your belly.
“god, yeah i know! i didn’t think that you wanted to, well i mean not with me because why would you want me like that anyway, i get why you’re here, lando.” you rambled into the empty air. you heard yourself, groaning in embarrassment and dragging the cover over your face. lando laughed, pulling it back so he could see you again.
he was leaning over you, perched on his side, resting on his elbow.
“trust me, i’m more than happy with any part of yourself that you wanna give me.”
“don’t tease me, lando.” you scoffed. he was joking, right? right?
“i’m not! i promise, this is the one place i want to be.”
“why? why with me? i mean you could’ve called max. all he does is stream when you’re not home, think he misses you.” you were half joking, half deadly serious.
“come on, it’s you. it’s just… its been so hard this year, being away from you so much more. and then you came all the way here…” lando trailed off, averting eye contact.
you turned on your side to face him, placing your hand over his affectionately.
“you needed me.”
“exactly. i needed you. you.”
he gave you a look, one that you didn’t recognise, but you understood what it meant. it said more than anything had done since this confusingly beautiful interaction began. you got it, then, why you were here.
“lando-“
“i know that i shouldn’t tell you this and i can’t just spring this on you in the middle of the night, but i-“
“lando!”
“what?”
“kiss me.”
and god, he kissed you. the air was sucked out of your lungs, dragged out of you by the way he put his hands on your body, so urgent.
you sunk back into the mattress, his body over yours, a hand cupping your cheek while the other rested on your waist, stroking the skin there, exposed from your ridden up top. your hands were in his curls, and you revelled in the way that you could shamelessly touch them now.
he paused for a second, nose brushing yours, breathless and grinning down at you, a knowing smile that was so beautiful that it rendered you speechless.
“you have no idea how long i’ve waited for this.” lando breathed, scanning your face as if he was trying to take it all in. you, panting beneath him, coy smile, cheeks flushed. you’d never looked so gorgeous to him.
you leaned in to kiss him again, slower this time, relishing in the moment. you were lost in him, thinking back to the very first time you’d locked eyes and how you never thought it would come to this. this, the way he was holding you, was the best surprise.
lando pulled away, peppering your flushed cheeks with kisses, a dazed giggle passing your swollen lips.
he flopped onto his side, grinning at the ceiling mindlessly. you hadn’t seen him smile that big all weekend.
“are you tired?” you whispered, lips brushing his cheek, his light stubble rough against you. you wondered how it would feel elsewhere, scratching over your bare skin.
“no.”
“then why did you stop?” you asked, the words falling off your tongue slowly, sinking all over him like honey. you felt the way he tensed up, the suggestion that laced the seemingly innocent question making you tingle.
“i didn’t come here for that.” he reiterated.
“and i didn’t let you in for that. but here we are.” you weren’t ashamed of what you were asking, the moment was right, the one, and you knew it.
“it’s too soon.” lando was apprehensive. he was always overly protective of you, previously as his friend, but this, god, this was an entirely different ball park and he was proceeding with caution, against every natural instinct in his body screaming at him.
“says who?”
“it’s your first. it needs to be special.”
“everything about this is better than i could have ever imagined.”
“are you sure you want it to be me?” there it was again, those unrecognisable nerves that made everything inside of you flutter.
“lando, there is no one else i could ever want to do this with more than i want to do it with you. i want it to be you.”
“but… now? are you sure? i don’t want you to regret this.”
“the only thing i regret is that this didn’t happen sooner.”
“one last time. i just need to hear it one last time.”
“i want you, lando.”
and with that, the air changed, charged with a different kind of tension. lando pulled you on top of him, hands firm on your body, the action itself gentle. you steadied yourself, hands on his shoulders, his resting on your waist.
“can i take this off?” he tugged at the hem of your shirt. you nodded profusely. “words, sweetheart. i need you to use your words.” lando cupped your jaw as he said it, squeezing ever so slightly, enough to turn you into putty in his hands.
“please. yes.” you said shakily.
he smiled softly, slowly peeling the material off of your body, up over your head and tossed carelessly onto the floor. he kept his eyes on yours, despite the fact you were now left bare, aside from the white cotton panties that separated you both. he pawed at your sides, kneading gently at your soft hips.
“we’re gonna start slow, okay? gonna take my time with you.” he muttered, eyes on yours before they trailed slowly down, across your face, neck, collarbone, further and further until he was taking all of you in. he began to stroke the underside of your breast with his thumb, watching the way your body tensed under his feather-like touch.
“okay.” you choked out, head tipping back as he placed a kiss to the base of your throat.
his kiss trailed further down your body, peppered in the valley of your breasts, and then you stopped breathing, the air caught in your throat because he was looking at you, really, truly looking at you, as his tongue found your nipple. you couldn’t take your eyes off of him, not when he was looking at you like that, not when he was making you feel this good already.
lando pulled away, just for a second, just so that he could shift you from his lap onto his thigh. he was still fully clothed beneath you, totally in control, and you craved him in a way you didn’t know was humanly possible, so much so that you didn’t need the encouragement he was giving you to start rolling your hips, pussy grinding down on his covered thighs, the friction of your underwear driving you insane.
“oh, baby. you want me so badly, don’t you? should’ve asked me sooner. m’gonna make you feel so good.” his hands were on your hips, guiding you backwards and forwards on him.
“it feels so- oh, god.” you whimpered, fingers tangling in his curls, back arching further into him as your thighs clenched around his. he licked over your collarbone oh so slowly, a shiver running down your taut spine.
and then he was kissing you again, tongue slow over yours, his fingertips surely leaving marks where he was controlling your pace. the kiss was filthy, untameable, and you found yourself dragging against him slower, harder.
“i need you.” you panted, forehead falling on his shoulder as you pulled away from his lips, goosebumps pricking your sweat slicked skin. you were so close to an orgasm, desperate to feel him everywhere.
“i want you to come for me like this first, okay? can you do that for me, baby?” he cooed, bouncing his leg ever so slightly. “look at me.” and you did, somehow mustering the strength to pull yourself back up and find his darkened eyes.
you were a mess of curses when you let go, your body convulsing, collapsing into him as you came. you were throbbing on his thigh, one glance down at where you were grinding against him displaying your slick. his arms went around your body, flipping you onto your back so that you were resting against the mattress.
“you did so well, baby.” lando crooned, resting over you on his forearms. you stared up at him in awe, blinking away the haze. “do you want more?”
“i want everything.” you breathed, pulling him against you. you smoothed your hands over his shirt until you reached the hem, dragging it up over his back. he helped you take it off, and then it was lost to the room. you grabbed at his shoulder blades, smooth, muscular planes of bronzed skin so warm under your touch. you felt insatiable, like nothing was enough, totally intoxicated by him and everything he was managing to make you feel.
lando’s hand slid down your body, searching for the band of your underwear. when he reached his destination, he toyed with the lacy edges, letting them snap against the pudge of your belly, teasing you. you bucked your hips, frustrated, and he used the opportunity to cup your pussy, feeling where you’d soaked through the cotton. the groan he let out was carnal, animalistic, almost needy. he could feel all of you, how you ached and dripped, how you needed the everything that you’d requested.
“you’re so fucking good for me, god.” lando almost slurred his words, voice lower than you’d ever heard it. you keened at the sound, pushing your hips further into him.
lando didn’t give you much time to dwell on it, mouth latching onto your underwear where it met the crease of your thigh. he was so close, so tantalising close to where you were aching for him and you were just about levitating off the bed when his teeth grazed your inner thigh. you couldn’t see him looking at you, losing it, inhibitions out the window. your eyes were already squeezed shut when he began mouthing over your cloth-covered pussy, spit further ruining the sodden material.
“take them off.” you cried out, tugging hard at his curls that you hadn’t even realised you were clutching for dear life. and lando was a good listener, because he complied immediately, tearing the lace down your legs like a starved man.
his tongue was on you then, everywhere all at once, running through your folds and over your clit. you didn’t know if you were dead or alive, a different kind of pleasure than anything you’d ever experienced coursing hot through your veins. lando switched between long, slow licks, his tongue flat against you, and rapid kitten licks, burying his face in your cunt.
everything was moving in slow motion, your hands grasping frantically at anything you could reach; his curls, the sheets, his shoulders. you could barely make out what he was saying, his words muffled, lost to the soft flesh between your legs. it seemed to echo, every lick, stroke, word. you snapped out of it, finally, when he pulled away.
“more? you want my fingers, baby? gonna get you nice and ready for me.” you just nodded, voice lost to the air of the room.
one arm locked around your thigh, pinning you still, and the other snaked up your leg until he reached the mess between your thighs. he took a moment to take it in, how wet you were, how fucked out you looked, knowing full well he must have looked the same, unhinged as he gave into your shared desire that he’d tried his best to keep hidden. he’d never felt more stupid in his life for holding back, as he took in the ethereal delight sprawled under his touch.
when lando slid the first finger in, your stomach twisted deliciously. he watched you carefully, searching for discomfort but all he could find was sheer bliss, written all over your face as clear as daylight. he worked the digit in and out, nice and slow, curling against your walls. he could feel how tight you were, clamping around just one finger and he thought his head was gonna explode. he added another finger, watching the way you took him in, twisting his fingers.
“are you gonna let go for me again, sweetheart?” lando punctuated his words by putting his mouth back on you, teeth grazing your clit as he sucked.
you were thrashing, a silent scream building from the fire in your belly. you could just about make out the way he was spurring you on, his mouth running as you spilled over the edge, covering his fingers. you saw white, maybe god, ears ringing, and when you finally mustered the energy to look at him, you could have come for a third time. lando looked feral, lips red and coated in everything you had to offer him. his eyes were glazed over, a hazy grey that sent a jolt through your body, the aftershocks of the orgasm setting in.
“christ.” was all you could sigh out. a lazy smile painted your face, your eyes blown out, everything a little blurry. everything except him.
you could feel him scaling up your body, crawling over you until he was level with your face. he placed a kiss to your throat, your jaw and finally your lips; when he pulled away all that was left was shared giddy smile, both of you suddenly shy. you couldn’t stop the roaming of your hands, exploring all the parts of him that you could reach. when you found the waist band of his joggers, your hand grazing his abs as you did, he sucked all of the air out of the room, a sharp inhalation making him tense up.
“you still want all of me?” he breathed, his shaky breath fanning your face. lando was obsessed with hearing you say it, obsessed with how you wanted him as much as he needed you.
“all of you. lando, this is… you’re perfect.” you admitted, lips brushing his. your hands pushed the material down his hips, nails raking over him as you did. he couldn’t seem to wait any longer, kicking them off the rest of the way, his boxers quickly following suit.
you couldn’t help but stare, all of him bare against all of you. your nipples brushed his chest, his hands holding you close, your hands threaded through his curls. it was like you were sussing each other out, eyes watching lips and hands getting lost. you stayed like that for a moment, pressed together, closer and closer, until he was slotted between your legs like he was coming home. lando searched your face one last time, hunting for a smidge of discomfort.
“are you ready for me?” he whispered.
“yes.”
the initial stretch burned, but he slid into you smoothly, his cock slipping through your folds with ease. he felt you clamp down on him, his head thrown back as far as it could go, thick neck exposed to you. you bit down on his shoulder, where it met the base of his throat, trying to mask the gasp of pleasure that sent your eyes rolling back in your head. he grunted at the sensation, enjoying the sting.
“oh, fuck.” he was shuddering, trying to keep himself in check.
“don’t, oh god,” you started, meeting the roll of his hips. “don’t hold back.”
“we gotta go easy.”
“i don’t want easy.” you tightened around him then, and he saw stars.
“you’re so fucking good.” lando groaned, an edge of excitement in his voice, and then he unleashed everything that he’d held back. how much he wanted you, and a bittersweet weekend of frustration versus success came crashing down and he couldn’t do anything except give himself to you exactly how you wanted.
lando was a delicious weight on top of you, the drag of his hips slow, meeting yours hard. the pressure made you lightheaded, his body moving against yours like the thick drip of honey, smooth and sweet. you couldn’t make sense of it, of how fucking good he felt, grinding deeper and deeper into you like he’d found buried treasure. the overstimulation had your third orgasm building nice and quick, waves of pleasure making you dizzy.
“you like it like this? like when i fuck you nice and hard?” yes you did. “don’t think i can go without this now, you know that? such a good fucking girl.” you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, just let his words wash over you. “so beautiful, taking me so well.”
you couldn’t process that this was your best friend lando. this was a different person, it had to be. yet, somehow, it made sense that the man you knew, the one who spoke his mind, mischievous and troublesome, would be like this, a god above you as he fucked deeper into you with every thrust. he was filthy and gentle, brutal and sweet. it didn’t make sense, but it also just did.
“are you gonna come for me? one more time, baby. need to feel that perfect fucking pussy.” well, his wish was your command, because then you were gushing. the one thing you could feel was him, none of your other senses worked, you couldn’t see past the tears that fell, couldn’t get any words past your lips. maybe you screamed, you weren’t exactly sure.
lando was kissing you everywhere. each hip bone was met with his lips, your stomach, over your ribs, breasts, clavicle, neck. your face was covered in kisses next, your cheeks, forehead, a dainty peck to your nose.
“can you look at me?”
your eyes cracked open slowly, the exhaustion hitting as you came back to reality.
“was that okay?” there he was again, this shy version of lando that you couldn’t get used to.
“okay? lando that was…” you shook your head in awe. “that meant everything to me.”
he smiled then, that gorgeous, gorgeous smile, the one with the crinkles by his eyes and his teeth on full display. you melted.
“me too. you’re fucking beautiful. so, so fucking beautiful. should’ve told you sooner.” he murmured.
his words made you think, way too hard for your current state. what happened next? lando had said some things, some pretty big things that you didn’t know how to comprehend. it was crazy, how scared you were to bring it back up to him, considering he’d just been inside of you.
“sooner?” you whispered, hardly audible. lando was midway through tucking you both into bed, pulling your flushed, naked body into his own under the duvet.
“yes. a lot sooner.” he replied, not a trace of doubt in his voice.
‘how much sooner?’ you thought to yourself, unable to stay awake any longer to agonise over it, your dreams haunted by the way he touched you so well. it was magnificent to fall asleep in his arms, and you couldn’t help yourself from wondering when it would happen again.
-
you woke up tangled with him, fingers stroking your cheek, smoothing your hair out of your eyes.
lando was always so warm, but now his tanned skin radiated sunshine, a beacon of light in your bed. you smiled, eyes still shut, shielding yourself from the streaks of light casting over the room from the crack in the curtains.
“what time is it?” you croaked, bringing a hand to your eyes to rub away the sleep.
“gone eleven. i need to go, baby.”
baby.
you hadn’t gotten a chance to take my notice of the things he’d called you last night, too caught up in the way he played with your body. now that you heard it, in the calm after the storm, it made you swoon.
“already?” you tried to hide your disappointment, not quite ready to detangle yourself from him.
“need to get to the track. i think i’m already late. i just wanted to be here when you woke up.” lando sounded so soft, not as groggy as you, and you wondered how long he’d been awake, watching the soft rise and fall of your chest.
“thank you.” you knew that you’d have spiralled waking up alone, and you were immensely grateful that he’d stayed.
lando began to get up, wincing at your whine of protest.
“i’m sorry. i’ll have someone pick you up later, okay? i’ll see you soon, i promise.”
you knew he had to work hard today, knew how much analysis he needed to do before the race. he was starting further back than anyone would have liked, and he had something to prove as well, oscar starting too close to the front for lando’s liking. there were places to make up and hard work to be done to get back to the front.
“don’t apologise. i hope it goes smoothly today.” you smiled at him, watching him collect his long forgotten clothes. you were entranced by the way his body moved, the lines and shapes that tensed and rippled as he dressed himself.
“i’ll message you.” he promised, creeping back over to the bed. you weren’t sure what to expect, but the soft kiss to your lips, almost apprehensive on his part, could have killed you off, your heart pounding.
your grinned like a fool when the door shut behind him.
-
the shower was burning hot, loosening up your muscles. you cleaned yourself slowly, examining your body, the same one that you’d given to lando. he’d taken you apart, piece by piece, and put you back together, the traces of him that he’d left behind delectably apparent.
you followed the trail of marks he’d left, starting with the love bite below your right breast that you couldn’t even remember him leaving, making your way to the litter of fingerprints that were tattooed into your hips. your fingertips ghosted over your swollen lips, the kiss that he’d left at the junction between your neck and your shoulder, reminiscing the evening. you seemed to ache everywhere, the dull pain setting into your bones so nicely.
you prayed it would happen again. you felt like it would, everything between you had changed now, changed from any possible return to the norm. you wanted it to change, you couldn’t fathom the idea of staying friends when the lines had blurred like this, when he’d kissed you so deeply, touched you so intimately.
the shower was much needed, refreshing your body that was now tainted by him in the best way. you tried to keep a clear head while you got yourself ready, taking your time to make yourself presentable to the paddock. the time of your departure was looming, the pink and white sunset outside your window indicating that the race was only a few hours away. the air had cooled slightly, and you knew you needed to make your way to the lobby.
your phone dinged in your hand as you were packing your essentials into your bag. you glanced down at the device, unruly smile gracing your face.
see you soon, the text read, an orange love heart punctuating the short but sweet text. it was safe to say that the butterflies in your belly were well and truly alive.
-
the screen beeped as you scanned your paddock pass, and you slipped through the gate, making your way into the paddock. it was beautiful in qatar, they’d outdone themselves with this structure, the glass ceilings and jungle of greenery an expression of wealth and elegance.
you made a beeline for the mclaren garage, greeting lando’s pr officer who smiled warmly at you. you recognised oscar smirking as you appeared in the garage, and as you got closer you realised why.
“nice to see you. looking for lando?” his monotonous voice held an amused twang.
“hey oscar, great job last night!” you said, waiting for the other shoe to drop. “yeah, is he around here somewhere?”
“yeah he’s just doing press i think. extra spring in his step today.” oscar gave you a knowing look, one that made you blush.
“what do you know?” you deadpanned, fighting back laughter.
“i know that this was a long time coming.” he smiled, and then he was gone, lost to the bustle of the garage.
you stood there, probably in the way, lost in thought about what oscar had just said. he was right, this was a long time coming.
you jumped a bit when a hand landed on your waist, relaxing instantly into lando’s body when he pressed himself against you, head on your shoulder.
“i’m so glad you’re here.” he whispered, pressing a secret kiss under your ear, and then he, too, was gone, before you could even react.
your nerves were shot, ushered to the back of the garage where you found a headset. you chewed your nails, anxious about it all. the race, the changes that you were surely coming. you wanted it, wanted everything from him that he’d give you, willing to commit to all of it, to him. the distance, borrowed time, chaos of his world. last night had changed everything and you couldn’t have asked for more.
eventually the lights went out and the fight was underway. you found your hands clasped together, sweating in the dry heat and the anxiety. you clapped every time he made an overtake, storming through the field. when he made it into p3, picking the pace up on oscar, the nerves resurged and you prayed for a clean end to this race.
lando’s radio messages flooded your ears, and your leg bounced uncontrollably, your shoe slapping against the floor.
“be sensible, lando.” you muttered under your breath, resting your chin on your tightly clasped hands. he would be on the podium, but you knew it wasn’t enough for him, it never was. would you be enough for him?
eventually he agreed to hold position, thank fuck, and you could breathe again. he’d driven a beautiful recovery drive, bringing the car onto the podium, and you rushed out with the team to congratulate him. you lingered at the back of the pack behind the metal barriers, watching in quiet admiration as he jumped out of the car. he slapped oscar on the back, hugging his younger teammate before bounding towards the team. his head was darting around as if he was looking for something, but you couldn’t make it out with his helmet still on. and then the helmet came off and it became clear.
he was looking for you.
lando pulled away from a hug with a mechanic, leaning over the barrier right in front of you. you gravitated towards him, somehow moving through the swarm of team members until you were pressed against the metal too. he was beaming, eyes brighter than they had been all working weekend, and then his hands were on you. the hug he pulled you into was tight and you clung to one another for a moment, unbothered by his damp race suit, or the tickle of his sweat slicked curls.
the kiss he pressed to your cheek was far less secret than the one in the garage, so was the one he pressed to your forehead, but the one he pressed to your lips, as quick as it may have been, was the one that really took the cake. you were blushing when he pulled back, a mischievous grin on his face. you shook your head in disbelief at his boldness, unable to tame your bewildered smile.
“what are you doing for dinner, baby?” he called out to you as he walked away. the podium high had clearly set in.
nothing, you mouthed back, not quite confident enough to shout across parc ferme.
“good, we’re going on a date.” lando winked and then he was gone, pulled into the chaos of post race duties.
tears pricked your eyes when he stood on the podium, a much happier man than the one you found when you’d arrived. you couldn’t put it into words, how one night had changed everything, giving you everything you didn’t realise you wanted.
then again, lando was always good at beating expectations.
-
hehe the end
-
taglist
had to remove some tags that aren’t working! let me know if you wanna be added or removed xo
@boysthatgovroomvroom @thegirlinthefandoms @welld0nebaku @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys  @turningxstrange @rachstash @infinitebells @multilovebot @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @yeolsbubbles @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @nokiaholland @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @organasith @micks-afterglow @blueflorals @juno-1610 @lqvesoph @wilmasvensson @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @h0e-xoxo @mattxxamryli @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3
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bigfatbimbo · 3 months
Note
no thoughts just vox whimpering and moaning the word mommy while being edged. melt when you ask him who is a good boy
stupid tv got me horny
a/n — this little request inspired me so may I present
Mommy kink Vox x reader headcanons
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˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗  So I mentioned in a post before that you wouldn’t even have to tell Vox to call you mommy, he just would.
˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗  And depending on how fucked up he is at that particular moment, he’d have different reactions.
˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗  If he happened to already be in subspace and he called you mommy for the first time, he probably wouldn’t even notice that he said it.
˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗  However, if he lets it slip earlier in the session, he’d be absolutely mortified. Looking up at you embarrassed as he realizes what he just said.
˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ “Wait— Fuck I didn’t mean—“ he’d get defensive immediately, not wanting his guard to come down that easily.
˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗  However, all of his walls would practically melt if you respond well. “No, sweetheart, mommy liked that.” Or maybe if you’re feeling generous, even call him a good boy.
˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗  He would immediately get ten times needier too, like it’d be very embarrassing. 
˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗  He literally would need your attention so bad, in and out of bed.
˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗  Like even in public he’d have to be the center of your attention and all times, and he’d get super pissy if he wasn’t.
˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗  He would literally pout about it. Maybe even do one of those cartoonish “um, ehem,” throat clearing things.
˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗  Speaking of being pissy, he can such a brat towards you. It’s definitely just because he wants a reaction out of you. (AKA a super hot punishment)
˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗  It’s definitely also an ego thing like, it’s a losing battle either way but at least he put up a fight.
˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗  But after a little bit he would go back to being pathetic and craving praise so bad he’d plead with you to get it.
˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗  Oh he has such a praise kink too, especially paired with his mommy kink. 
˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗  He wants all of your attention and kind words to feed his fragile ego. It’s your approval and validation he wants more than anything. 
˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗  It’s also a matter of feeling taken care of, which isn’t something he feels very often, I would assume. 
˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗  Like he is constantly fighting for control and power in his everyday life and throwing tantrums when he doesn’t get that, and I think not having the power in a scenario with someone he trusts would be a weight off his shoulders.
˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗  Speaking of trust, that would be a necessity in this situation. Probably for the word ‘mommy’ to even slip out in the first place.
˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗  I think it would start with respect. In the sense that he would have to have some kind of respect or appreciation for you in order for him to trust you.
˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗  And with respect and trust, as stated earlier, comes a constant need for validation.
˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗  Now, what you said about edging him. Don’t think I forgot.
˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗  That would literally destroy him. At a certain point he’d only be able to glitch out and moan, more like scream, the words “mommy please.”
˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗  And if you coo down at him, “Doing so well, baby. Who’s my good boy?”
˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗  He’d literally whine and kick his feet, probably having tears streaming down his screen at that point. “Me, mommy, I— bzz— I am.”
˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗  Please keep calling him a good boy after that. He’s so far into subspace that being good for you is the only thing keeping him going.
˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗  Now, the age old question thats mommy kink adjacent; would he suck your tits? The answer is yes, of course. He’d be very reluctant to ask though. 
˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗  I also don’t think he’d be that big on it. At least not in a screaming and crying kind of way. Maybe he’d hump your leg a little while doing that, but otherwise it’s not his favorite.
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a/n — guys someone request sub Lucifer. I miss my little guy so bad.
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seraphicsentences · 6 days
Note
HEY! i knwo your on a break but just incase your bored could you write reader sending spicy texts2 streamer!ellie while shes on like a boss level, and then after ‘raging’ at reader for making her lose, she comes back as if the chat isnt questioning the sounds coming from the other room (silly girl forgot to mute)
hi. tumblr j deleted all my edits to this. i’m rage quitting and j posting this version i banged out in the span of 15 minutes 😀 anyways.
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FUCK i’m sorry i know this took fucking forever and now i’m delivering mediocrity. loved this req either way this was smf to write. hope you enjoy sweet girl ;)
me when i disappear for a month and come back only to deliver pure dog shit. 🤪🤪
“-KID JUST GOT FUCKING DESTROYED, FUCKING BITCH.”
it was a late friday night, which meant ellie was streaming in her room, and you were supposed to be studying.
this week ellie was hosting a special in celebration of hitting 10k subscribers, and was grinding away to finally defeat Resident Evil’s final boss.
you could hear the chat dinging away with message after message, no doubt blasting ellie with compliments on her play, and the occasional comment thirsting over her hands or whatnot. it was nothing new— you’d seen the countless edits of her on your own social media page, and even had a folder of your own favorites saved away on a burner account.
“let me suck your fing- WHAT?! that is a crazy thing to say,” you could hear ellie’s shocked voice. “either way, chat, i’m married…”
“where’s my ring? UP YOUR ASS. c’mon, leave me be, guys,” ellie jokingly whined, bantering with her obsessive fanbase.
you held back a smile of your own, hand pressed to your mouth as she continued to scold the chat for their outrageously filthy messages. what a dork.
“alright alright, im muting the chat. love you guys but i gotta focus now! this is serious shit and i’m low on ammo now, hah-ha,” ellie spoke to the screen, words slightly muffled through the thin wall.
in the living room papers lay strewn across the floor, couch littered with eraser shavings and crumpled post-it notes, yourself splayed atop it all.
studying was a long-forgotten task you abandoned to instead sweep lazily through your camera roll, attempting to clear up some much needed storage.
you stopped abruptly at the thumbnail of an old video, in which depicted a downright sinful image of ellie’s bared neck for you as she arched back in pleasure.
you quite literally salivated at the veins that adorned her sweat-glistened skin, naked chest that was just covered by the play button in the center, goading you to click it.
quiet sounds of ellie’s desperate moans picked up, her head coming up look just above the camera and deliver the most pathetically fucked-out look.
“ple-ease can i cum, mommy?” she whined, voice breaking with every thrust of your fingers, wet squelching in the background a sign of her neediness.
“let me hear you, baby,” you heard yourself coo through the screen, the video becoming shaky as you picked up your pace— before suddenly ending on accident right as ellie let out a strangled whimper.
you met it with one of your own, frustrated with being left on an unfinished high, the throbbing at your core impossible to ignore.
your thighs shifted against one another, wetness pooling in your underwear as you replayed ellie’s final sound in your head over and over again.
your trance was broken by the sound of a frustrated groan coming from behind ellie’s door.
“fuck, i got it this time, i got it, swear,” she cursed as the game’s recognizable ‘revive’ audio cue played.
she could just do this again next week, right?
without a second longer of thinking, you quickly screen-shotted a clear frame from the video, shooting it ellie’s way and sending a quick text to follow.
~~
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ellie choked on her own spit as she clicked the blur away. cough- “fuck-“ wheeze- “shit-“ hack- “sorry, guys, j choked on my own saliva.”
what the fuck? what games were you trying to play?
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you groaned, hearing the firing of guns continue on alongside ellie’s commentary.
sliding your panties aside, you spread your legs to display the mess between them, snapping a quick picture.
you shot back another text.
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“just one more hit, one more one more one m- i- fuck,” you hear ellie stutter. “oh fuck, yep… and i’m dead, ‘kay, sorry guys just give me like 5 i’ll be back. gotta take care of something.”
you heard the slam of her headphones hitting the table and a screech of her chair sliding back against the hardwood floors.
the door swung open, the look in ellie’s eyes making your heart race with anticipation.
“hey els, good game?” you asked innocently from your position on the couch, legs crossed with your arm resting over the back.
“good game? yeah, great game actually,” she replies sarcastically, sauntering her way over to you. “you didn’t happen to need something, did you?” she asks, hopping onto the couch and quirking an eyebrow up.
“me? no…” you trail off as she leans in to brush a kiss across your lips.
“no?” she tucks your hair aside, before leaning in to whisper, “you mind spreading those pretty legs for me then, baby? i just want a look.”
“els,” you whine, attempting to catch her mouth in a kiss.
she avoids it, dipping down instead to rasp words against your racing pulse, “show me.”
you uncross your legs slowly, a damp patch darkening the very center of your shorts.
ellie grabs the leg closest to her, swiveling your body in one swift move to face her direction, placing that leg over the back of the couch as she runs her other hand up your opposing leg.
“fuck, els, i need you,” you say breathlessly, hips bucking into the air.
“let’s get these off,” she replies with a squeeze, tugging at your waistband. “wanna tell me what’s got you texting me like a slut in the middle of my stream? was it the video? my video?”
she dips her thumb into your leaking hole, swiping your arousal up in a messy circle over your aching clit.
“ah- shit! yes, fuck, y’sounded s-so pretty in it, els,” you moaned, nerves overly sensitive from the wait. “please,” you cried out, unsure of what exactly you were begging for, but you needed more.
“so fuckin’ needy,” ellie laughs under her breath, relishing in the loud groan that escapes your lips when she replaces her hand with her mouth, tongue flicking rhythmically against your swollen clit to draw out more of those pretty sounds.
“oh-oh, god, right there, so good- mmph,” you rock your hips up, hand scrambling to tug ellie’s mouth even closer to you, if possible.
mmhm she moans into your pussy, the vibrations making you jerk up as your legs clamp tightly around her head. ellie’s hands dash up immediately to shove them apart, pressing them wide open with an iron grip as she practically growls, “you asked for this. so fucking take it.”
two of her fingers slide easily into you with the next pull on your clit, and you’re arching up in a manner almost identical to ellie’s in the video, whining nonsensically.
“you’re dripping, baby,” ellie tuts, “just couldn’t wait for me, huh?”
she continues to pump her fingers deep into you, curling them on every outstroke to slide against the spot that makes you see stars.
“c’mon, cum all over my fingers,” she teases, whispering sweet praises between kitten licks to your sensitive clit.
with your head thrown back, you couldn’t help but moan her name like a fucking prayer as your walls started to tighten, legs trembling under her grasp as she worked you through your high.
“that’s it, soak my fucking fingers.”
~
iluvgirls_moms: THAT WAS 1000% A MOAN
elliesleftarm33: guys what the fuck is happening 😀 ellie babes, i think you forgot to mute.
ewilliamsismy_wife: did anyone else j hear ellie’s name. are the voices getting to me?
elliewsjizzfr6996: how to be ellie’s gf no glue no borax? 🥲🥲
1toesuckersslurper: NAH ITS BEEN WELL OVER 10 MIN IM OUTTA HERE
yeahhh… looks like ellie owes her subscribers a real big 10k special next week. and an apology.
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starkeyisthelastname · 3 months
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Dark!Rafe x virgin!reader and he knows she’s a virgin nonetheless he fucks her like slut ands she’s crying out of pain and pleasure
(Hope you’d don’t mind I made this Sarah’s friend. 🙈)
“Quit crying, slut.” Rafe Cameron said to you as he railed you with his fat length, breaking open the only innocence you had left. Maybe you shouldn’t have come to Tannyhill without Sarah being here, maybe losing your virginity should have been with someone else. You had always craved the attention of your friend’s older brother, despite his reputation in Kildare county.
He was rougher than you had ever imagined, his violent nature coming out to play as he fucked you. His cock massive, feeling as if you were being spilt in half the more he drilled into you. Words couldn’t leave your mouth, never having imagined this would be the way your virginity would be taken. The gorgeous blue eyes staring down at you as if you were the biggest whore he had ever seen.
“Girls who fawn after me get their holes wrecked.” Rafe’s nasal tone making your cunt clench. “Don’t care that you are the prettiest thing with the tightest cunt.”
You cried out, long nails pulling at his bed sheets from the pain and pleasure ripping through your body. He was quite literally destroying you for anyone else and you started to think that would be okay as long as he got to be inside you.
You felt the metal of his signet ring dig into your throat as he squeezed it with a massive hand. His other, slapping your clit with force while his cock thrusted up towards your cervix. The tears streamed down your face, the fire in the pit of your belly growing from the constant thrusts. You had only had an orgasm once and you had given it to yourself with vibrator. That was nothing compared to the feeling that was going on now.
“I told you to quit crying, yeah? You asked for it the moment you started begging for my attention. You are my own personal whore now.” Rafe’s voice dripping venom with a tone so low it made you shiver.
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cryptidghostgirl · 3 months
Note
*Shuffles in* HEWWWOO
I GOT ANOTHER (I'm so sorry) Alastor x Chubby!Reader 😔
(This might seem weird and so so strange but I swear it's not perverted and shouldn't be seen as such)
Magic is in hell, yeah??? SOOO what if Alastor tries to his dark voodoo sprinkle magic but IT BACKFIRES or something while he tries to fix that one wall in the show that keeps getting destroyed or helping charlie with something 🤔 and he turns into A KID BUT A HUMAN KID BACK WHEN HE WAS ALIVE and everyone kinda justs bombards him with questions and comments (not Husk in the background smirking because Alastor is an asshole to him so he's planning all the ways he can get his revenge, Charlie freaking out, Angel cooing at his cuteness, vaggie cursing up a storm, niffty sulking because he's no longer a bad boy) and I would imagine that child Alastor is kinda like '🥹who are all these weird creatures, where am I, where's momma' ...😭 chaos ensues, Alastor just wants his momma so he's crying as loud as he can because 'I'm lost' (HES A MOMMAS BOY AND I FEEL AS A KID HE WAS INNOCENT AND SWEET) the hazbin hotel residents immediately try to calm him down but he only gets louder THEN LIKE AN ACTUAL ANGEL here comes reader back from shopping or waking up and is welcomed to all the commotion, and after making her presence known Alastor just sniffles at her, tears streaming down his face 😢 reader immediately going to tiny Alastor to help and tiny Alastor who thinks reader is a fairy? Angel?? Goddess?? Some warm welcoming figure that he's gonna marry (like playground kids sometimes do??) so he's calming when she goes to help him,' he's been kidnapped' looking back at the hazbin gang, more tears coming, reader immediately going into caretaker mode and cares for him throughout the whole ordeal, while Alastor gushes about his momma or talkinging readers ear off about anything and everything (Charlie figures out it only lasts all day somehow) so Alastor sticks with reader and helps her with her duties at the hotel, never leaving her side, at the end of the day before he goes to bed
Angel teases tiny Alastor about reader being his mommy que reader blushing and sputtering from reader only for Alastor to turn to Angel with disgust and determination on his face to proudly announce to Angel that reader is gonna be HIS WIFE INSTEAD only for husk to scoff in the background and says something about Alastor being a smiley freak or something for Alastor to doubt that reader will marry him, that thats never gonna happen, only for reader to kiss Alastor on the forehead and declare that that doesn't change anything because Alastor has always owned her heart, something sweet???? To reassure kid Alastor then reader takes Alastor to his hotel room to sleep, to later on in the night to sneak into readers bed because 'momma cuddles with me till I fall asleep', sleepy cuddles, soothing humming for child Alastor to ask before he falls asleep if reader really will marry him when he's older and Reader half asleep herself and full of love for the man he'll grow to be says yes, but to take her out first or get her flowers ya know???
When reader wakes the next morning to flowers surrounding her bed and her favorite breakfast presented to her with a bashful adult Alastor saying he's kept his side of the deal now its readers turn, readers faces lights up and smiles big enough to hurt her cheeks and they date and get married ☺️😣
(I'm sorry it's a weird request and soooooo fucking long but .....please..)
A/N I literally love you and your requests. Hi. Also I am making her a rabbit again because I feel like that would be something that a kid would not find scary and would be very excited about as a demon form.
Mishap of Magic (Alastor x Chubby!Rabbit Demon!Reader)
Pairing: Alastor x Reader
Warnings: Nothing except that Alastor is a little kid for most of this fic.
Word Count: 3,463
Master Lists:
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Hazbin Hotel Master List
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It wasn't the first time it had happened to Alastor but, it had certainly been a while since the last time he'd had to deal with such an issue. Magic was a fickle thing, obstinate at the best of times. He had found a certain agreement of sorts with the metaphysical but, it still backfired on occasion.
Alastor had been trying to fix the wall -- the fucking wall. Somehow, every time there was an issue with the hotel, this same exterior wall was involved. It was inconceivable and deeply irritating, especially now that it had been the trigger. Alastor could feel the world shifting, feel himself shrinking and then, nothing.
"Uh, what the fuck?" Vaggie broke the silence, stress seeping into her voice.
"Oh my gosh! Vaggie!" Charlie exclaimed, grabbing onto her girlfriend's arm and shaking it violently, a bright smile lighting up her face, "He looks like a little kid!"
"Damn," Angel laughed lightly, "who woulda guessed the strawberry pimp was actually a cute at one point in time."
Alastor looked around in confusion. A tangle of limbs, wild creatures and bright colors. Husk smirked, trying to hold a derisive laugh at bay as he placed a bottle on the shelf of the bar.
"Charlie," Vaggie sighed, turning to her overexcited partner who at the moment was cooing over how small Alastor had become, "you do realize we have to change him back."
All the joy fell from Charlie's face in an instant.
"Hey, uh, little guy?" Pentious began, awkwardly advancing towards Alastor, "You wouldn't happen to know how we can fix this? I-"
"Stay away!"
His voice was small and shrill, panicked as Alastor backed away from Pentious' advancement. Sir Pentious stopped in his tracks and Charlie let go of Vaggie, coming up beside him.
"It's okay, Alastor." she said in a tone of voice that was trying very hard to be everything except for panicked, which is what it actually was, "He's not going to attack you.''
It became evident almost immediately that that had in fact been the wrong thing for Charlie to say. Alastor's eyes filled with sudden tears.
"Where... stay away from me!" he exclaimed, "My momma told me not to talk to strangers."
Charlie and Vaggie exchanged a glance and Charlie sighed.
"We're not strangers, we're you're friends. I am Charlie, that is Vaggie, Husk is in the bar, this is Angel, and here is Sir Pentious. Remember?"
"I don't know any of you scary things!" Alastor exclaimed, tears beginning to drip from his wide, wet eyes and roll down his cheeks, "I... I want my mommy. Where is my mommy?"
"Oh! No no no!" Charlie exclaimed, trying to reach a comforting hand out to the child but he backed away again.
"Where is my mama!" he yelled, now absolutely sobbing, "I want... I want..."
He sniffled, trying to catch his breath as he looked frantically around the room. Charlie turned to Vaggie, pulling at her hair.
"What do we do!" she asked her girlfriend who shrugged, as much at a loss of how to handle the situation as her partner was.
"Man, if I 'da known he was this cute and... and frail under that whole persona all along." Angel sighed wistfully, crossing his lower set of arms.
This time Husk really couldn't stop the laugh that left him. Before anyone could ask what was so funny, if he knew anything about what was going on, the doors to the hotel opened and Y/n waltzed in. Her arms were laden with bags and she wore a bright, sunny smile.
"Al!" she called out, closing the door gently behind her, "You'll never guess what I found at the market!"
"Um, Y/n?" Sir Pentious tentatively began, taking a step towards her as she turned to the group.
"Fresh strawberries!"
As her eyes fell on the scene before her, the smile fell from her face, replaced with an expression of alarm. The bags fell from her grasp, spilling groceries across the floor as she rushed to the young Alastor's side. His mouth was slightly open, tears still falling openly from his eyes, as she crouched before him. The white skirt of her dress pooled gently on the floor around her feet as she raised a handkerchief to his face, gently patting his cheeks with its edge.
"What on earth is going on?" she asked softly, her voice laced delicately with concern.
"Well, Alastor was fixing the wall and then he just... poofed? I don't know! We don't know what happened and we don't know how to fix it and he keeps asking for his mom and... and... and..." Charlie trailed off, looking around helplessly at her companions.
Y/n's gentle gaze never once left Alastor's. She smiled softly at him.
"I see, are you lost?"
Alastor nodded weakly, sniffing once.
"And there are all these big scary monsters around!" he told her.
"Ah, I see." Y/n sagely replied, "Am I a big scary monster too?"
She didn't mean it in any way except as an attempt to assess the situation further. Alastor's cheeks flushed slightly pink as he shook his head, looking away bashfully. Y/n smiled softly, turning his face gently back to her.
"Would you like to stay with me until we can figure out what is going on?"
The tears had stopped now and Alastor nodded enthusiastically. Y/n dabbed the last remains of saltwater from his cheeks, slipping the handkerchief into her pocket. In a single, swift and practiced motion, Y/n lifted Alastor up, resting him on her hip. His hands immediately went to one of her floppy ears, running his little hands over it in awe.
"Bunny." he stated and Y/n nodded.
"Yeah, I am just like a bunny, okay?"
Alastor met her eyes.
"You're pretty like a bunny too!" he announced proudly and Y/n felt her cheeks grow slightly warm.
"Ah, what a little charmer." she noted, tapping his nose lightly and Alastor giggled.
"How are you so good with him?" Angel asked and Y/n turned towards him as Alastor continued to fiddle with her ear.
"What do you mean?"
"He just kept crying when we were trying to help."
Y/n shrugged slightly.
"I was the oldest growing up. I always had to take care of my baby cousins and stuff like that. Besides, little kids are the sweetest a this age!"
Angel's eyes flicked between Y/n and her enthusiasm and little Alastor who seemed absolutely awestruck in her arms.
"Yeah." he scoffed, "That is all it is."
"Now, Alastor." Y/n hummed, turning to face the boy who immediately met her gaze, his earnest air only endearing her to him further, "I have some work to get done, I cook here at the hotel. Do you want to come help me?"
"Uh-huh." he nodded vigorously and Y/n smiled.
"Well, that's a relief cause, you know, I could really use your help."
"Really?"
Alastor's eyes lit up at the notion, that she needed him, that it wasn't just an empty offer.
"Yeah I could." Y/n confirmed, "How else am I supposed to know if the fruit is ripe or the meal is good if you don't try it for me first?"
Alastor giggled and Y/n turned, glancing at her bags still splayed out on the floor.
"Pen, can you help me with these?"
Immediately, the snake demon agreed, grabbing the fallen produce and placing it back into the bags before hoisting them onto his shoulders. The trio had made it about halfway across the lobby to the service door that lead to the kitchen when Y/n paused, looking back at Charlie over her shoulder.
"Charls, I'd quiz Husk about this if I were you." she advised gently, "He seems far too pleased at the situation to not know exactly what is going on."
The day sped by in a whirl of something akin to unbound joy. It was a peaceful reminder of the person she had been to take care of Alastor like this. They had always been close, he didn't own her soul or anything but Y/n and Alastor had been friends for years. When he had asked her to come help out at the hotel, she had jumped at the opportunity to spend time with him after so many years.
Despite their closeness, neither knew all too much about the other. There was always an unspoken barrier of sorts in the way. For Y/n, it was a mild attraction to the man. He was a moralist at heart with a strict code completely of his own he always stuck to and Y/n admired him for that. She wasn't sure what the disconnect was on Alastor's side but, in the moment, she didn't care. She had learned more about the man through this strange experience than she had ever hoped to, it was a gift.
It was his capacity for love, she realized as she lead him into the lobby to say his goodnights. Y/n had never realized how deeply Alastor cared about the people in his life or the world around him, he hid it so well as an adult. Child Alastor had no pretenses, he was completely and entirely himself with nothing held back. In a weird way, it almost strengthened the feelings she had for him as an adult, being allowed to experience him like this.
All day, he had trailed after her, doing his absolute best to complete every task she assigned him and talking all the while about how much he loved his home and his mom. It was sweet, it was endearing, it was verging on dangerous. Y/n tried not to think about it as she held his small hand.
The pair came to a stop by the bar where the rest of the hotel's residents were sharing a drink. Charlie had found out earlier from Husk that this change in Alastor should only last a day and Y/n found herself nearly morose at the idea. She loved Alastor as a man, respected him, but he lost that openness he had had as a child, she realized. It was a shame that come sunrise, she wouldn't be able to have such open communication with the man again, a shame that the only open communication she would ever have with him was when he was a child incapable of adult though. Y/n squeezed his hand gently.
"Let's say goodnight, okay?"
Alastor looked doubtfully up at Y/n, still put off by the rest of the gang.
"They're your friends, I promise. Would I lie to you?"
Alastor thought it over before shaking his head slightly. He turned to face the group.
"Good night." he announced, his voice trembling just the slightest bit.
"Good job." Y/n hummed and Alastor smiled in pride.
"Damn, is this how you guys always are?" Angel laughed, taking a sip from his drink, evidently already intoxicated, "I mean, I knew you were friends before you came here, but are you always such a mom to him?"
"No!" Y/n indignantly replied, her cheeks flushing slightly pink, "We're just friends."
"Nah," Angel smirked after a moment, "you're totally his mom."
Y/n opened her mouth to reply when Alastor let go of her hand, stepping in front of her with his hands on his hips.
"Y/n is not my mom." he insisted to Angel who raised his eyebrows.
"Yeah, then what is she?" the spider demon asked and Y/n glared at him.
"Y/n is the prettiest ever and when I grow up she's gonna be my wife!" Alastor proudly announced, "She is nice and gives the best hugs."
Angel and Husk both broke out into peals of laughter.
"Like you could land a girl like her." Husk scoffed.
"What do you mean?" Alastor asked, his words slurring slightly together from exhaustion.
"Hate to break it to you kid, but when you grow up, your creepy ass could never."
Alastor frowned deeply at this remark. He looked back at Y/n, his eyes bleeding helplessness. She felt her heart crack and crouched down beside him. Tucking his hair behind his ears, Y/n placed a soft kiss on his forehead.
"Don't listen to Husk." she smiled gently at him, "You have always had a place in my heart."
Alastor's face lit up at this and he turned back to Husk. Taking Y/n's hand back in his, he stuck his tongue out at the cat demon who rolled his eyes in response.
Once up in Alastor's room, Y/n tucked him in to bed and told him a story. Alastor's sleepy eyes struggled to stay open and when she moved to leave, it took some convincing to make him let go of her arm. With promises she would see him first thing in the morning, Y/n let the door close gently behind her and let out a sigh. She had forgotten how much work kids could be, she was exhausted.
She had barley made it back to her room, barley crawled into bed, when there was a soft knock at her door. With a sigh, she threw the covers from her legs and walked to the door, opening it with an irritated expression which softened the moment she saw who stood on the other side.
"What's going on, honey?" she asked, crouching down to Alastor's level and cupping his cheek gently in her soft hand.
"I can't sleep." he bashfully replied, "Momma cuddles me until I fall asleep."
"I see." Y/n hummed, getting to her feet and stepping to the side so he could enter.
Alastor looked up at Y/n in doubt and she gave him a nod of encouragement. It was all he needed to rush into the room and jump up onto her bed, snuggling down into the pile of covers. Y/n watched him for a moment, smiling softly, before closing the door and joining him.
Immediately, Alastor wrapped himself in her arms, snuggling into her chest. Y/n was frozen for a moment in indecision, but tiredness prevailed and in her sleepy state, all that mattered was that it was Alastor. Her oldest friend, the one who had never failed her. She pulled him close, resting her chin on his head.
"You're so comfy." Alastor mumbled through a yawn and Y/n chuckled.
"Its because I know how to enjoy all that life and the afterlife has to offer." she hummed softly in response, her breath tickling the top of his head, "Most men would prefer someone who looks different than me but, luckily I am not existing for men."
The pair fell silent for a moment. Sleep pulled at the edges of Y/n's ears, dragging her eyelids down. She hummed a gentle tune, a lullaby she had long since forgotten the words to but that she could hear her own mother in.
"Well, those men are stupid." Alastor grumpily replied, maneuvering himself around in Y/n's grasp so he faced her, "You look like a fairy."
Y/n cracked her eyes open, ruffling Alastor's hair slightly.
"Why thank you, I do try." she smiled.
"And I meant it."
"Meant what?"
Her eyes were closed again, her voice dreamy.
"When I grow up, I am going to marry you."
"Oh, are you now."
"Yes." Alastor insisted, and in his insistence, through the shrillness of his childlike tone, Y/n could hear him as an adult, as the man she knew, "When I am grown up, I am going to ask you to marry me. Will... you would say yes, right?"
Who would have guessed, the feared and decisive Radio Demon could doubt. Y/n smiled.
"Well, you can't just ask a girl to marry you right off the bat."
"You can't?"
There was a genuine confusion in his voice, Y/n had expected nothing less from a child. Still, she couldn't help but view him through the lens of his adult self in this moment. Maybe it was the exhaustion, the proximity, the dark, how lovely he was when he had nothing to protect himself from, when he did not yet know of the filter he needed in order to conduct himself in the world and not get fucked over by it.
"Nope." Y/n shook her head slightly.
"Why not?"
"Well, you have to court her first."
"Court her?"
"You know, ask her on dates, buy her flowers: woo her."
"Well then I will do that too."
The last thing Y/n remembered before the world gave way to sleep was Alastor asking what her favorite flower was.
"Hyacinths." she had told him, "The purple ones. But don't you dare buy them for me unless you have something to apologize for because they ask for forgiveness. Instead, buy me peonies, they are for new love."
The heat of Hell's false sun was what woke her. Y/n grumbled, rolling over in bed, the course of the day before re-materializing in her head. She smiled softly at the memory, a certain sadness creeping in at the fact that she would probably never be that vulnerable with the man again.
A faint, almost peppery smell reached her nose and Y/n cracked her eyes open. Around her was a world of soft pinks and whites, cascading petals and the most beautiful display of protracted death. She gasped slightly, sitting up in bed. Looking around her small room, she realized it was filled to the brim with peonies in different stages of life. As her eyes traveled to the foot of the bed, she found Alastor standing there, his cheeks flushed and a tray in his hands. On the tray was a stack of pancakes, all cut into the shape of flowers to match. Y/n laughed lightly, smiling up at him from where she sat in bed.
"What's all this?" she asked and his cheeks grew brighter still.
Alastor looked away, clearing his throat.
"I'm keeping my side of the deal."
Y/n searched her mind, looking for any trace of what he could possibly mean.
"The deal... oh!" it suddenly hit her, the sleep riddled conversation they had had the night before.
Her cheeks flushed pink, mirroring his and picking up the colors of the flowers he had surrounded her with. She smiled brightly at Alastor, pulling herself from the bed. The hem of her nightgown rippled gently against her legs as she approached him. With grace, she plucked a strawberry from the plate and popped it in her mouth.
"Are you asking me out on a date?" she grinned coyly up at him.
Alastor rolled his eyes.
"I'm... doing the things so... just..."
"Alastor."
"What?"
His discomfort was palpable, unfamiliar. She reveled in it.
"Do you actually like me?"
"I thought I told you. You know, when-"
"I thought that was just mindless chatter." she interrupted, "Little kids are always saying stuff like that."
"Well, I wasn't."
Y/n laughed and Alastor placed the tray carefully on the edge of the bed, turning back to her.
"Did I misinterpret what you said?"
"Not at all." Y/n said, taking a step closer to him.
"So you will marry me?"
She laughed again, she couldn't help herself. Y/n could tell that if Alastor was able to do anything but smile, he would be scowling at her reaction to his sincere question.
"Ask me out on a date."
"Bu-"
"Ask me out on a date!" she insisted and Alastor sighed.
"Fine. Would you..." he took a deep breath, nerves running wild, "would you like to go out... with me..."
"Oh wow, so confident." Y/n teased.
"Y/n." Alastor warned and her smile widened even further.
"Yes, Al. Yes, Alastor, I would love to go out on a date with you."
"Wait, really?"
"Yes." Y/n nodded, her hands clasped behind her back as she swayed slightly on her feet, "I will."
Before she could register what was happening, Y/n was in Alastor's arms. He lifted her off her feet, spinning her around.
"Wait!" she shrieked, "Alastor, put me down! Aren't I too heavy?"
"Not at all, my dear." he hummed, holding her close now.
"Still, put me down!" she bashfully requested and at last he conceded, her feet finding the cool of the wood once again, "How long have you been... you know."
"That, my dear, is for me to know."
He tapped her nose gently and one of her ears shifted in response. Y/n crossed her arms.
"Not fair." she whined.
"Eat." Alastor commanded, unable to be moved on this point, "Meet me downstairs after. We're going out."
----
Tags:
@willowshadenox @i-love-jafar @elfyeet 
@reader3
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