Nature is healing i just vibed and listened to music while doing a study for an hour

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Keni

JVL
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
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trying on a metaphor

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tannertan36

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Kiana Khansmith
Misplaced Lens Cap
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@angelcqre
Nature is healing i just vibed and listened to music while doing a study for an hour
being your master's pretty lil puppy girl that gets absolutely spoiled. he lets you sleep in his bed, kisses you softly, hand feeds you treats, shows you to his friends who kiss and coo and grope you in ways that make you giggle and glimmer under the attention-
but none of them ever touch your pussy.
"you're right-" his friend says as he tweaks your nipple. "she is perfect."
before you can glow under the compliment, your owner speaks up.
"Hopefully, the stud finds her perfect, too."
You glance between them, lip pouted out extra far. "what's a stud?"
'someone thats gonna make you feel really good-" the friend says, hand traveling down to your lower belly. "and give you a bunch of presents right in here."
thinking about Ghost and his thick waist, and how your knees never touch the mattress or the floor when you ride him.
and it's a little embarrassing how clumsy he, his size, makes you, too; turning you into just this whining, sniffling mess that can't even ride him properly. something he's all too eager to mock you about. gripping the back of your thighs as you whimper into his neck, grunting about how he thought you were gonna take him for a ride, pup before he slaps your ass, and leans back, arms folded behind his head, nodding at you to go on. use him to get off. you can do that much, can't you?
but no. you can't find your balance. your thighs are already aching from being spread so wide over the absurd width of his waist. all you can do is press your palms into the softness of his belly, feeling the solid muscle beneath, and desperately grind against him until he feels merciful enough to take over. all game gone because the man is just too goddamn big for you to do anything except cling to him until he's finished with you—conscious or not.
(and, of course, cancel all immediate plans the next day because you started cramping the moment he knocked your knees apart and forced his thick hips between them)
guys i love drooling when he drools cause he’s so faded from finally being able to hit raw, when he’s kissing you deep and pushing his spit into your mouth with his tongue :( when he spits on your clit just to lick it up or circle it around your entrance i love
Bookworm. Ghost x Reader. cw: cyberstalking, abrupt ending a/n: to borrow a phrase from early, a brain hairball.
Simon hates being idle.
It leaves him feeling off, a knife left out in the rain. Rusting creeping along the edges, the weight uneven when you finally take it back in hand. Twice the effort to get it in killing shape again. That’s what leave does to him. Makes his skin crawl with the need to move, to do something. And this bloody physio appointment won’t scratch that itch.
His shoulder’s still not quite right. Stiff in the mornings and aching when the weather turns. Makes it impossible to train without spending forty-five to an hour on the floor, sweating and cursing. He’s been putting off the appointments, avoiding them outright. Gritting his teeth through it, but Price caught wind of it. Told him if he skipped another one, he’d drag Simon there himself.
So, here he is.
are you man enough?
I’m at a party, and there are a bunch of people there. I’m casually hanging out but not really feeling it, I'm a little uncomfortable, so I decide to slip out the front door. Ye olde Irish exit. Now, instead of leaving quietly, I could have stood on the couch and started airing my grievances, but I didn’t. I simply left. The party continues, I'm just no longer on the guest list, and the only thing it loses is my presence.
Later a partygoer texts me, upset. They want to know why I didn’t stay, why I left without saying goodbye. I explain I was prioritizing my wellbeing. They call me a snob. I tell them I have every right to decide who I spend my time with and who I allow in my personal space, and I’m not sorry for upholding my boundaries. It isn’t about them, it’s about me and my needs. They still don’t get it.
They accuse me of shutting them out, but all I did was step away. They call me selfish. I explain that selfish would’ve been ignoring my own limits just to keep everyone else comfortable, which is exactly what they’re doing. I tell them if they ever felt the need to leave a party, I’d never coerce them into staying just because I wanted them there, and that it's always okay to walk away from an interaction, a situation, even a person, if that’s what feel is best for you. Still, they don’t understand, and still, I refuse to apologize.
I sigh and try one more time, explaining that the party didn't end because I left, it just lost something it was never owed in the first place. Me. And if that stings, it says more about their entitlement than it does about my boundaries.
More Simon sketches? Indeed my guys.
It's the first time I draw a man's back y'all. He's really teachin' me anatomy.
Wip 🚧 butcher!Simon….🫦🥩🔪
something very hot about a forced kiss in the immediate vulnerability put forward and the self-assurance that no matter how much you hate the hot wet tongue licking out the inside of your mouth and no matter how badly it makes your skin crawl, you still wouldn't dare bite it and risk putting yourself in an even worse situation. just a cute arrogant way to rub it in
Going to sleep while cockwarming alien!price only to wake up hours later with stomach cramps, looking down to see a massive bulge in your abdomen thst bulges and fucking writhes around. Prices chin still hooked over your shoulder a dick still firmly inside. He chitters when you try to question him "whats wrong, love? You make such a good bearer for my clutch. Isn't that what you wanted? You asked me to breed you, remember?" He jerks his hips to jostle the eggs inside with a heart laugh, mean.
fear of god
There's someone outside the spacecraft. You don't remember them being part of the crew. Part 14 masterlist
-
It comes at you fast.
A few days too many in the brig with only Gaz for company, his comings and goings too sporadic and unpredictable for you to anticipate his arrival. You can feel the way your thoughts shift fluidly in your head. Jello sliding on a tilted plate.
Humans are social animals. You aren’t meant to be alone or confined in one place. It’s why crews for interplanetary space travel are usually larger than this. Dozens of individuals to allow for groups to form and relationships to develop, the Goldilocks zone designed to curtail infighting and ostracism.
A crew as small as yours should never have been allowed to leave Earth.
stuck on the thought of sneaking under Price's desk to toy with him before his meeting. nuzzling your cheek over his clothed cock like a kitten when it starts, his hand coming down to grip your jaw tight as you slowly draw his cock out, listening to them huff about reports and expenditures. his fingers digging into your cheek—a warning, maybe. but the flex of his thumb makes you wonder if it's a silent better finish what you started, love.
biting your lip when he keeps shifting in his chair as you stroke him to stifle a giggle when they ask him what's wrong, John? you seem a bit out of it. head dizzy with power when he's forced to cover up grunts by coughing into his fist to keep from getting caught as you slowly lick him from base to tip. somethin' in this throat, he rasps, frayed. voice stripped: all gravel.
it's meant to be just a tease. flexing some of the power you don't have over him in a space where he can't make a scene. can't sink his nicotine-stained fingers into your nape and keep you on your knees between his thighs for hours. punishment and submission sometimes weaved around each other until you can't tell them apart. but as you pull back, intending on waiting the meeting out with your mouth pressed to his knee, your plan backfires tremendously when he catches you before you can scoot to the back.
he grabs you by the scruff of your neck and makes you take every fat, thickening inch of him down your throat. holding your face down while you whimper and gag around him, hardly able to breathe as he takes over. unable to anything but take as he spreads his thighs wider, forcing you closer and his cock deeper—
and above the desk, the only sign anything is amiss is the whitening his knuckles when he pinches his cigar, and the flush peaking out under his beard. none of them aware that between his knocked apart knees, he's squeezing your nose shut in warning when you make too much noise. grunting about checks and balances while he forcing you to take him deeper and deeper, using your mouth until you're messy—sticky with spit and sweat. Fucking into your throat until he starts to come, the end, you think—only for him pull off and finish all over your face.
and you—slightly dazed, a little hypoxic—are forced to kneel there between his legs as he slowly, carefully gathers it all up with his thumb before pushing it into your mouth, glancing down at you as they drone on about something you can't even hear anymore through the roaring in your ears. words muddled under the heavy pants as he scrapes every drop off your cheeks and pushes it between your sticky, sore lips. his cute little pet staring up at him with swollen, teary eyes; mouth sticky and covered in spit, but opening so prettily for him when he drags his thumb closer.
the people in the room with him easily buy into the lie that he's under the weather—hayfever, and all—as he lights up another cigar, and leans back in his chair, trying not to laugh at them when they whine about reports, totally ignorant to the fact that just beneath his desk, you're licking the come off his fingers.
Everyone clap for non consensual body modification everybody loves a character whose body has been altered against their will
The irony of this new breed of self-righteous AI hunters on AO3 is that they're all just copy and pasting peoples fics into AI detectors, which are all operated by AI and therefore THEY are feeding people's work into the algorithm without their consent and in some cases no doubt circumventing the locks people put on to avoid getting scraped...
Don't copy and paste anyone's AO3 work into third party websites, you're not the good guys in this situation?
Should start doing Call of Duty art again
John Price finds out you use OpenAI, and he. is. furious.
Gaz, Soap, they're not online enough to really understand, but Price... he's furious. Betrayed. If you wanted somebody to feed you misinformation and tell you what to do, he's right there, always a text away, so close he could guide your hand on how to do whatever your stupid little mind thinks is right.
Instead, you're asking a fucking robot.
He's mad, to say the least, when he discovers that you've got the OpenAI app on your phone. The look he gives you isn't just annoyed - it's betrayed, the sort of look you give when somebody has wronged you.
Because you have. You've wronged him. You relied on somebody else to guide you, to tell you how to think, to act, to be, as if he isn't supposed to be the shepherd leading the blind.
Disgusting.
His hand fits neatly around your throat as he holds the phone up, eyes narrowed in disgust, one thick thigh sandwiched between your own.
"Could make you stupid enough without any fucking tech," he spits, voice full of acid, condescension. "Y'wanted someone t'think for you, honey, m'right here, wastin' water when y'could've been followin' my orders no problem. Stupid."
It doesn't take long for him to wrestle you onto the bed, shucking your panties down to bare your ass. Spanks it red, makes you start over every time you lose count until you've damn near hit fifty before he finally, finally feeds you his cock.
Makes you apologize as he notches the head against your weeping cunt, coos that he'll help you. You're clearly sick, unwell, a dopamine addict that he can fix all on his own. You need guidance, and he'll help you, give you that, grunting promises and curses with every battering thrust against your cervix.
(makes you promise that you'll delete your account, that you'll listen to him, that you'll only ever listen to him, him, him)
When he finally cums, he stays inside of you, cooing softly that you'll have a lot of work to do before he forgives you for this betrayal. That you'll spend plenty of hours with his cock inside of you, learning how to be bored again. He'll help you get over your addiction, honey, don't you worry.