Always Thinking About Nick Robles Version Of Jason Todd

a conversation y'all aren't ready to have:

white women will be protected before any person of color will.

i am not saying white women can not feel the effects of sexism or gender inequality, but white women will come before a person of color.

because you are white before you are anything else.

which is why peggy carter is getting far more attention for captain carter than any other poc movie has.

Bestie I re-downloaded episode and tell me why the first story I pick to read is a dads best friend story 💀✋🏻

hand over the story title and no one gets hurt 💥💳 💥💳 💥💳

HUGH JACKMAN RENAISSANCE

ABOUT

• Mar, 20, she/her

• blog will feature 18+ content so minors dni, if you do not have age in bio you will be blocked

• hate and negative comments will be blocked, no exceptions

•this blog is to help me get over my fear of posting my work

•character list

•rules

•about me

MINORS DNI

NOTES: This is entirely inspired by “Pushing it down and praying” by Lizzy McAlpine, thought about Abby listening to it last night and this is the product of that, as always very short

WARNINGS: fem!reader (not verbally gendered, but reader does have a vagina), sex with a man (relatively brief), bad sex, emotional cheating? (you think of Abby while having sex with your boyfriend), fingering, dirty talk, Abby tops, male orgasm, faking an orgasm, overstimulation (if u squint)

You want to feel bad. Really, you do. You’re on your back, clutching tightly to the shoulders of your ever so eager boyfriend as he thrusts sloppily inside of you. He grunts, pathetically, you think. Every muffled praise and compliment falls out of your ears and stumbles from your lips in manual moans and gasps that spur him to think you are actually enjoying yourself. He angles his hips in a way that makes your teeth grind down, and everything just feels wrong—it always feels wrong.

It starts as only a thought. Fleeting and unimportant, your thighs bracketing either side of his hips, it’s familiar. You squint at the ceiling, the fleeting thoughts tumbling to the forefront of your mind in vivid memories.

“Oh, Abby!” You remember how you gasped, how your fingers dug into the rippling muscle of her back that made her laugh. Her fingers would drive deeper inside your cunt, thumb brushing your oh-so sensitive clit. She felt so lucky to get you like this, practically crying before she’s even started.

“God, you’re such a mess for me, baby,” she breathes, forearm tensing, fingers curling inside of you. You writhe against the bed, arching your back while her hot breath fans against your neck, hips bucking desperately to try and get her fingers deeper inside you and she laughs, “So impatient too, you miss me that much?”

You remember how she’d tug your legs further up her hips, press her thighs behind your own with a palm pressing down on your writhing hips. She’d press her fingers deeper then, swirl your slick across your aching clit. You’d babble and a string of curses mixed with the sound of her name would tumble from your lips, every stroke of her fingers hitting that spongy soft spot inside of you that she hits perfectly every single time. Gradually she picks up her pace, holding you down by your stomach as you try to run away from the tingling pleasure creeping through your cunt, down to your toes. You get louder, voice pitchy and whiny, your fingers grip her forearms as it flexes and when you cum—hard—she kisses you.

Your thighs shake violently at her sides and under her palm and you can barely kiss her back without crying into her mouth as she licks into yours, “That’s it baby, come on just a little more,” she fucks the cum out of you, your cunt spasming around her fingers and tears fall down your cheeks.

“Fuck baby, you gonna cum?” His voice comes back to you, grating. His off-timed strokes ruining the perfect image of Abby’s figure that had replaced him for those blissful few minutes. Your face falls but not before you realize, and a shrill, overdone, shriek of a moan comes from your chest.

He topples over you, spilling out into the condom, kissing the side of your face as he turns his body onto his back at your side.

“You okay? Thought I lost you for a second there,” he laughs. And you laugh along, rubbing your eyes in faux drowsiness, trying to feel guilty.

Just read a daredevil fic tagged “Matt Murdock’s secret identity hangs on a thin thin thread called ableism” and if that is the cold hard truth

FANFIC WRITERS‼️‼️‼️‼️ WRITE HUGH JACKMAN IN SWORD FISH AS STANLEY JOBSON x READER FANFICS AND MY LIFE IS YOURS ‼️‼️😫😫😖😖🗣️🗣️

Your chest??? A perfect place to take a nap

this would be with eddie and i'll die on that hill

I was thinking the same thing!! like irl me isn't allowed to go in haunted houses for Reasons but this is fiction so...

(help idk what happened here I didn't mean for this to turn into smut 👀💦 cw: thigh riding, eddie being a perv)

---

"C'mon it'll be fun!"

You looked from Eddie's excited face to the entrance of the old barn that had been converted into a dark, looming haunted house for the season. Black curtains concealing the entryway fluttered in the cool autumn breeze, curling like hands beckoning you closer. But the muffled screams coming from inside kept your feet glued to the ground.

"Eddie, I don't know..." Your hands curled tighter around his arm, digging your nails into his leather jacket.

"I was a scarer here last season and it's the same every year. Trust me, it's not that bad."

"Not that bad" meant different things to you and Eddie. Sure it was just a bunch of teenagers in masks and makeup, but the fear was real. At the very least you knew Eddie wouldn't run off and leave you, (that had happened to you once before, it wasn't fun).

"How 'bout this?" Eddie held you in front of him, suddenly serious. "Every time we make it to the end of a section, I'll give you a kiss."

"Eddie," you roll your eyes, "if you wanna make out we can just go back to the van."

"Don't tempt me," his playful growl teased a smile from your lips. "C'mon, pretty girl. I think I make a pretty good distraction." Eddie waved his hands over his front and wiggled his eyebrows. You could help but laugh, hitting his chest and begging him to stop when he started to gyrate his hips at you. He captured you in his arms, his whole body shaking as he laughed with you.

"Okay," you took a deep breath, Eddie's leather and weed scent settling your nerves the tiniest bit. "I'm ready."

"That's my girl." Eddie smiled and pressed a kiss into your hair before leading you in.

Whatever braveness you felt before walking into the mock-house immediately disappeared when you realized how dark it was inside. You clung tighter to Eddie's arm.

"It's okay. They make the first hallway super dark to fuck with you."

Eddie didn't whisper which somehow made you feel safer. He tromped down the hallway and through the first creepy area in his shit kickers like his raucous feet would keep the monsters away.

The first area was unsettling, but not bad like Eddie said. It was even kind of cute with the fake bats hanging from the ceiling. Once you made it to the end, Eddie took your face in his hands and planted one on you. It was a wet sloppy kiss, purposely so to make you laugh and push him off you.

"Eddie!"

"There's one," he grinned. "Man, this was a great idea."

The rooms got scarier as you went of course, and you screamed more than a few times when someone jumped out from behind a corner or banged an old shovel on the floor. Your heart was hammering harder in your chest with every room.

"How big is this fucking barn?"

"Who cares?"

Eddie had you pressed up against a wall somewhere between the fifth and sixth area. His mouth was too busy kissing down your neck, hidden in the shadows, to care about whoever was going through the house behind you.

His rewards for being brave had gotten a little too "rewarding" and after the last one Eddie couldn't seem to stop. Not that you minded. You'd much rather feel Eddie's lips on your skin than go through the rest of the house.

"Fuck, Eddie, what if someone sees?" The sharp suction of his mouth on your neck was your answer. Who cares? His lips and teeth and tongue whispered, "Let them see. Let them see you're mine. My brave girl."

"Eddie," you whine and grind against where he's straining for you in his tight jeans.

"That's it, pretty girl, doing such a good job."

You didn't know if Eddie was talking about your progress through the haunted house or how you were grinding against the thigh he slotted between your legs but you didn't care.

Eddie squeezed your hips, guiding you towards your release. The rings on his fingers were cool against your heated skin as you worked faster. Eddie could tell you were close by the way your hips stuttered, how you held your breath and shook against his chest.

"That's it, that's it, baby. Show me, give it to me."

Just as you reached your peak, Eddie slammed his mouth on yours, stealing the scream from between your lips and swallowing it down. Your thighs shook around his as you came down, the fake house around you totally forgotten.

"Fuck me, that was hot."

You couldn't speak, couldn't do anything but smile at Eddie as he smiled down at you. You weren't sure if you could walk, but Eddie pulled you through the last two rooms anyway. You stumbled out of the house like you were drunk, barely able to stand and giggling like a lunatic.

Outside one of the workers running the haunted house was speaking with two security guards when they suddenly turned and shouted, pointing at you and Eddie.

"Shit! Run!"

Eddie grabbed your hand and made a dash for the parking lot and his van, hauling your ass behind him as you cackled like a goddamn witch.

Yeah, haunted houses with Eddie might be your new favorite part of Halloween.