urmammy

[urmammy]

I'm back! Time for me to figure out how to user this app again and write some disgusting smut for you guys~

It's so great having my imagination 😩

[urmammy]

I'm so sorry I haven't been posting lately :( my life is out of my hands at this point, and all I've been focusing on is my kid and my mental health lately. My car is non-existent now, grieves that I thought were friends betrayed me, I'm facing quite a bit of inner turmoil within my relationship, and the lack of motivation due to depression is eating me up and I can't keep up with the stories right now

I'm stumped.

Coming in December, I'll probably throw out a few Christmas drafts here and there, but I'm open to suggestions, anything would help with this writers block freezing my ability to think right now.

Stay safe lovelies

[urmammy]

You're such a pretty fuck.

Zepherath OC x Fem!reader

Warnings: Degrading, p in a sex, mask kink, swearing, exhibitionism, +18 content below, minors do not interact.

Summary: You and your boyfriend Zepherath were on a camping retreat with a couple friends, sitting around the campfire telling stories when Zepherath left to get more fire wood and never came back.

"Zeph..?" Your steps were soft and slow against the crunching leaves beneath your shoes, the camp fire light slowly receding as you got future and further from the camp site, flashlight in your hand shining through the trees and bushes.

It had been ten minutes since Zepherath left to get the fire wood, and you were more than concerned to say the least, but with the scary stories your friends were telling around the fire, you were in edge, worried eyes slowly scanning the area until you heard a twig snap, and you whipped your flashlight in the direction you heard the noise, chest heaving and fingers trembling.

"Don't. Fucking. Move. I'm gonna fuck you real good.."

Your breathing caught in your throat and your flashlight dropped when you heard the all too familiar voice come from behind you, his gloved fingers reaching from behind your neck to wrap around your throat and gently pull you towards his body, hips flush with his.

"Zepherath, you scared me.."

When you turned around to face Zepherath, your eyes widened slightly, only to find him wearing a black long cloak with a hood over it, and the infamous scream mask with leather gloved fingers reaching out to you.

You were shocked, to say the least, his head tilting to the side ever so slightly as he looks at you and you look at him, barely able to see the green orbs behind the voided dark clothe for eye holes. He grabbed your throat abuprtly, causing you to wince and grab his wrist as you look up at him, and oddly enough, the arousal between your legs started pooling as he held you there, looming over you silently as his heavy breathing came out exasperated through the mask.

"Zeph..?" You say softly, but he was unresponsive, simply turning you around forcefully as he holds onto the back of your neck and walks you over to a fallen tree, forcing you to your knees and forcing you to bend over the slightly round surface.

"Good girl." Was all he breathed out, your face red and body submissive under his touch as he gently pulls your pants and underwear down in one, your pretty pink pussy glistening with your arousal and greeting him with a drop of your lust. He grabbed both of your ass cheeks and squeezed them roughly, bringing his masked face close to your heat before inhaling deeply and exhaling audibly, shuttering with his breath.

"You smell delicious. I know exactly what my girl wants. And I'll gladly give it to her."

And with that, you were nothing but putty beneath him, resting your chin on the log as your nails dig into the freshly chopped wood, ass lifting slightly as you whine out of need.

You needed him to fuck your ass.

Needed him to cum deep inside of your ass over and over again.

Anal was something Zepherath never enjoyed the idea of, simply sitting back and watching you after night's of endless sex, stretching out your ass with toys and your fingers, whimpering out for him to fuck your needy little hole. But even when you begged, it wasn't enough.

But something came over him tonight, and he was so ready to fill you to the brim.

All you heard behind you was the rustling of clothes and the zipper of his pants before feeling his warm pink tip prod at your perky entrance, the sound of him spitting ringing through your ears before you flinched when the saliva hit your hole, one hand holding his shaft while the other spreads one of your luscious cheeks. You were never the type for foreplay, loving when your unprepared holes were stretched out without any sort of warning.

And that's exactly what he did when he shoved his thick cock deep within your anal walls, his hips coming flush with yours as he let's out a sigh of relief, his gloved hands smacking down on either side of you on the stump as you whimpered and moaned out, causing him to press his body against his before wrapping one arm around your neck, and covering your mouth with the other hand.

"Be a good girl for me and shut the fuck up.." he grumbled, his hips moving slow and deliberately within your walls as your eyes rolled back and shut slowly. You were mewling with pleasure behind his hand, your sounds coming out muffled as he continues his deep, hip flushed thrusts, his breath shaky on your ear.

"I should've fucking fucked your ass a long ass time ago. You're so tight.."

He was struggling with his words, but you didn't care if he finished yet or not, simply enjoying the sensation of him taking his time in your ass, prodding, thrusting, pulsing you could feel every inch of his cock, every vein as he fucks you with such care in the middle of the woods, only less than a mile from your friends. And the adrenaline that was running through your body as thrilling.

"Now I'm gonna take my hand off your mouth-" he says slowly between gasps

"- and if I hear one peep out of you I'm shoving my fingers down your fucking throat." You nodded your head frantically befit his hand left your mouth slowly, a puddle of drool dropping down your chin and onto the wooden log as you hold your mouth agape, eyes half lidded and lust clouded as you stare up at the moon, lost in its bright light as he grabs your hips and begins his relentless drive.

He was shuddering, morning softly, mumbling praises as you held still for him, letting him fuck your ass so good and so hard, his hips moving at an animalistic pace with nothing but wet sounds greeting him.

"Such a good girl.. such a dirty fucking whore, your hole is so tight- Gah!"

And with that, he was a mess behind you, his hips snapping forward and forcing the log to move an inch as he presses his cock deep within you, seemingly wanting to go even further than your bodies would let you as he pounds once, shoving the log an inch and causing you to cry out, pounding again, causing the log to move even more before he grabs it and holds it in place, pounding one last time before letting out a guttural moan and coming deep within your walls, wheezing, panting, laughing almost it seems like.

Laughing?

You wanted to look behind yourself, but you couldn't, head dropping on the log as all your stamina leaves your body for the night and his laughter slowly dies down.

"I didn't think I would like that so much-.." his says lowly

"Next time I won't go so easy, knowing how much of a pretty fuck you can be and how much you can handle."

Just something on my mind lately. C:

[urmammy]

We live to see another smut

[urmammy]

A list of things that run through my mind on a daily:

Miguel ohara

Astarion

Ghostface from the scream series

Miguel ohara

Miguel ohara

Spider man oc characters

Junkerqueen from overwatch 2

Miguel ohara

More Miguel ohara

Jim carrey

Ghost face

Junkerqueen-

Oc characters below bc they made me hard- I MEAN THEY LOOK SO COOL DON'T THEY? WOW BING IS AMAZING-

His name is Zepherath c:

[urmammy]

Researching Characters so you don't have to Part 1: Hobie Brown & His Accent

Art above IS NOT MINE! Click for the link to the original art! Artist: @Jay19

A lot of people write Hobie Brown like Tom Holland, but this just isn't accurate if you want to write a good fan fiction. Hobie is a homeless black teen from the 70s, who was born in Cambridge, and is also a punk. He's not gonna sound like Aaron Warner or Tom Hiddleston. Just because he has a British accent doesn't mean he's going to sound like your average British movie star.

British English is a dialect, not technically an accent. An accent is how someone pronounces words, while a dialect includes pronunciations, but also includes general vocabulary and grammar. This means that despite Hobie speaking English, he won't use the same vocabulary that American-English speakers use, so if you write him that way it won't be accurate.

The British accent that most people are used to is called Received Pronunciation, which is considered the "upper-class" British Accent. However, Hobie does not have a a Received Pronunciation accent. He's cockney. They do not sound the same as upper-class British people, and have a completely different set of vocabulary.

How do you write a cockney accent?

Rule 1: Never pronounce the "H"

For example, house becomes 'ouse. Hat becomes 'at. Hello becomes 'Ello. By writing the words with an apostrophe in place of the "h", it would read more accurately.

Rule 2: -ing becomes -in

For example, running becomes runnin'. Helping becomes 'elpin' (because both the h and the g are silent). Walking becomes walkin'. Those speaking in a cockney accent don't pronounce the "g" part of the ending -ing.

Rule 3: Words starting with "th-" are usually replaced with "f-"

For example, thing becomes fing. This becomes fis. However, don't overdo it. If you write out every word starting with an f, it'll become difficult to read. Only do it if you're trying to enunciate some words over others. Even if you're trying to write an accent, it should still be comprehensible.

There's other rules as well, but these were the main three I saw during my research!

How do you write a cockney dialect?

Cockney rhyming slang

Hobie consistently uses Cockney rhyming slang in ATSV. For example, he calls Miles, "Peter Pan" which is Cockney rhyming slang for "Little man". Using Cockney rhyming slang can make your writing seem more authentic

Some other examples are "Apples and pears" for stairs. "bees and honey" for money, etc. You can google other ones for any words you want to use!

As always research is your best friend, so while writing Hobie, make sure to have another page open with lots of slang and other words available for you to use in your writing to make your character sound as authentic as possible!

Note: I'm not cockney nor British, so if you see any mistakes with my writing, please let me know <3

[urmammy]

@/Daniel Pemberton explain to me why you pulled the Spider-Man 2099 theme from the Long Long Man ads

Do not let it go unnoticed that the time stamp is 0:42

@/Daniel Pemberton explain. Explain please

[urmammy]

You're smarter than this

Villian/Yandere Miguel O'hara x fem!spider-hybrid reader

Warnings: Violence, talk of suicide, gore, villian Miguel isn't pleasant. 18+ content below, minors do not interact.

Summary: Miguel wasn't working with the spider society to stop canon events, he was rigging the system to bring back his own universe, even if it meant destroying all life outside of his own dimension. And you were the only one with that sort of information.

You were breathless.

Body trembling as you slung your web from building to building, movements faltering the more stamina you consume, screaming as you nearly miss grabbing your web and arms flailing in the air before you quickly cling another one and catch onto it, slamming into a wall and dropping to the ground.

You needed a second to breathe, a second to think.

But you can't.

He was just a few feet behind you, twenty, maybe thirty, his face distorted in a predatory anger as he stumbles on his feet, dropping on all fours and prawling for a moment,-seemingly like a lion-, before finally making it to his feet again. You were quick to react, tripping over your own shoes as you rushed to your feet and slung two webs, taking a few steps back as you stretch out the thin, strong webbing, slingshotting yourself across the city skyline,leaving him in a roar of fear that rung through the buildings.

You weren't paying attention as the colorless buildings fly past you in a blur, the only thing being of notice was the railing of an apartment building you slammed into in an alleyway, before ricocheting off of it and hitting the wall of the neighboring building before slamming down into a metal stairway that shattered beneath the force, crashing onto the ground underneath you as you let out a guttural gasp, eyes widening and mouth forming into an "O"

You couldn't believe the things you had seen earlier, the things you had heard. And when Miguel noticed your presence, you were now fighting for your life in the dull city you've come to know every day as your home.

☆○■Flashback■○☆

"If you think I'm even going to stop to think about what I'm doing, you're mistaken, because I already have."

Miguel had Peter pinned to the floor by his throat, Miguel's face twisted with a predatory disgust as he spoke, Peter's bloodied hands clawing at Miguel's wrist as he chokes the last bit of life from his body, meanwhile you had seen the very end of the events unfold through the crack in his office door, hands cuffed over your mouth as tears streamed down your shocked face.

"Miguel you don't have to do this-" Peter choked out, his blood shot eyes widening as Miguel's grip tightening, cutting off the last but if air supply he had left.

"You'll understand some day. In a new universe."

And those were the last words Peter would ever hear as his lifeless hand dropped from Miguel's wrist, and his eyes slowly lost their life, his blue orbs staring off into nothing but a void, left by his soul.

You took a step back, and unlucky for you, your hip snagged the edge of a plant stand, causing the vase to stumble and bump into his door, pushing it open slowly and leaving you exposed with a fearful expression, and tears streaming down your face.

Miguel's gaze snapped up from Peter's body and up to you before his predatory expression deepened, heightened by his anger and you took another step back, letting out a blood curdling scream that would shake office windows as he starts his animalistic sprint towards you.

☆○■End Of Flashback■○☆

Your ears are ringing, chin trembling as your wide, shocked eyes welled up with tears and you slowly looked down at the piece of metal sticking out of your stomach, raising your trembling weak fingers to touch the tip of the metal impaling you.

"It didn't have to be like this.."

He says lowly, his tall frame stalking towards your pale and trembling body, his red eyes narrowing in and fixating on the piece of metal sticking out of your body.

"Didn't even give me a chance to discuss my reasoning with you before getting yourself killed.."

His eyes flicked back and forth between yours and the metal pole sticking out of your body as blood slowly gathers around the wound, small traces of the red liquid seeping from the corners of your mouth as you lay there, trembling, eyes half-lidded as you stare into nothing. You felt cold, your vision was blurry and your ears were still ringing, his words sounding muffled as he kneels down next to you, gently lifting your head in his hand reaching for one of yours with his other, his collosal hand wrapping around your own and warming up your next to lifeless fingers.

"I could stay with you here, until the very end.." his days softly, his words laced with a venomy sweetness that's bitter to those immune.

"- and you could take this secret to the grave. Literally. OR. I could find a way to get you patched up and you could we could start something amazing together.."

You could barely speak, coughing up a bit of blood as you used what little energy to lift your head slowly, gurgling out your words softly.

"Go to hell."

His face dropped immediately, red eyes boring into your soul as he spoke gently.

"I was afraid you were going to say that."

And the last thing you saw were his red, clothed knuckles, zooming in on your vision.

When you woke up, everything felt warm, eyes fluttering opening slowly and looking up at the white ceiling above you.

You could hear the faint beeping of machines, your throat convulsing against the rubber tube that was forced down it before you started gagging and coughing, a a few nurses immediately rushing in to your aid to remove the tube from your throat.

"She's trying to breathe, we need to get the tube out-" one of them said as she was quick to lower your bed and gently remove the pillow from underneath your head.

It felt like forever as they untaped the tube from your mouth and gently pulled it out, your body wanting to sit up for your cough but you were left to lay there, abdomen sore with every cough as you tried to gentle them out for yourself.

"Take it easy, honey, take it easy..." One of the other nurses said softly as she brushed a strabd of hair from your face. Her tone was calm and gentle, she was patient almost like she's done this so many times.

"Where am i?" You finally croak out, throat scratchy and voice weak.

"You're at Metro-General. I'm gonna ask you a few questions and I need you to answer them for me okay honey?"

You nodded your head slowly

"Do you know your name?"

"(Y/N) (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N)"

"Okay good honey, do you know your birthdate-?"

As the nurse listed off the questions you answered quietly, your eyes leaving hers slowly and fixing in the figure looming in the corner of the room, unsure if he's been there the entire time or not.

He was out in the open enough the nurses would've noticed him, so you're certain he must have been there the whole time.

You just didn't realize Miguel was there until just now.

As she reclined your bed again slowly, sitting you up , she spoke sweetly. "Okay, well. I'll save the details for your doctor to fill you in on, his name is Doctor Stephen Strange, he's slightly held up but he should be here in a jiffy. Hang tight sweetie, okay? Do you need anything?"

You were hesitant to resoond, eyes never leaving Miguel's as he stared into you, those same red orbs sending you into a fear-strucken trance like state.

"Hun?"

You snapped your head over to the nurse, an apologetic look on your face.

"Yeah sorry. Some water, would be good."

She smiled at you warmly, exchanging a look between you and Miguel before giving you a nod and exiting the room, leaving the booth of you alone.

"I could have let you die."

He says coldly, his expression unreadable.

"You should have."

He chuckled lowly as he made his way closer, pulling up a chair by your bed and sitting down casually, leaning back as he spoke.

"And what would I win from that? Besides my plan going exactly how I need it to of course-"

"- Don't you understand how wrong this is Miguel? How fucked up it is to end all life as you know it just to bring back one timeline?"

His eyes were half lidded and cold as he looked at you.

"-I do. But I'm willing to do that if it means bringing her back."

"Gabriella wouldn't want this!"

"- Don't you dare talk like you knew her!"

He stood up abruptly, chair falling to the floor behind him as he looms over you, and his unreadable expression switched to one of anger, but their was something beneath that, something he was refusing to show, and it was pain and guilt.

"I messed it all up once-" his voice cracked, fracturing the angry facade he's been holding for far too long

"-I messed it all up once and now I have a chance to get her back and make it right, and I refuse to fail this time-"

"But you'll be taking everything from everyone else just for your own happiness-!"

Their was a knock on your door, causing you and Miguel to snap your heads in that direction beefier it opened slowly and a tall, lean, older male peaked his head through, a sheepish smile appearing for one second before he gave a quick wave.

"Hi. Doctor Stephen Strange, hope I'm not interrupting anything-" He entered the room and closed the door behind himself gently before walking over to the sink and washing his hands throughly as he spoke.

"So you had quite the accident there. Mind telling me how that happened?"

You looked at Miguel who glared down at you, his eyes so piercing cold they sent a shiver down your spine.

"I don't actually-"

"- Because if I had to guess, you were trying to run from something. Or someone."

He turned around slowly, and as he turned around, his scrubs slowly molded over into some sort of uniform, the clothes wrapping around his body and a cape slowly withdrawing from the back collar of his detailed silk shirt as he spoke in a stern tone.

"My name is Doctor Stephen Strange and I'm in charge of keeping track of all things threatening and or catastrophic towards the Multi-verse."

AHHHHHHHH ik that was so short and I'm so sorry I've been facing serious writers block lately plz help.

[urmammy]

The day after tomorrow

A Spencer Reid x fem!reader smut/fluff

Warnings: +18 content below, vaginal sex, foreplay, talk of death and or suicide, kissing, consensual wake up sex

Summary: You and Spencer were dating for years now, and he was debating leaving the BAU for your sake, causing him to act differently than he normally does.

"Spencer, I was just wondering when you would be home, just wanted to make sure you were safe, I love you." As the clock struck one in the morning you were left to sit in your living room and do nothing but worry about your boyfriend, Spencer. He told you over two hours ago that he was coming home after spending the whole week in Mexico trying to solve a case on ritualistic murders, and you were more than excited to hear that he was going to be home soon.

But two hours later, here he comes, stumbling through the door, tripping over his own feet before catching himself between the doorknob and door frame, slowly trying to regain his balance as you walk over to him with a worried look on your face, eyebrows furrowed and lips formed into a thin line. This wasn't Spencer, and he's been doing it more than you would like to accept over the last couple months.

"Baby, are you okay..?" You asked softly as you grabbed his arm to help him stand up. But he retracted, jerking his arm way as he grumbled a small "I'm fine-" while simultaneously trying to close the door and take his book bag off his shoulder.

"Morgan suggested we go out for drinks-"

"-Morgan's been suggesting allot of drinks lately, don't you think?" You took the book bag off of his shoulder for him, placing it on the hook you had put up by the door recently for these exact situations.

"You got a problem with it?" His tone set you off, causing you to pause in your tracks, arms still reaching up from retracting from where you had placed the book bag as you looked at him with a shocked expression. Spencer never talked to you like that, he loved you more than life itself and to think about talking to you like that? Well, you might as well drive a stake through his heart.

"Yes, actually. Spencer, I do. This isn't like you, you don't drink like this-"

"-And so what if I don't!?" You flinched at the sudden aggression in his voice, feeling almost like a wounded puppy with its ears pressed back against its head as he continued to go off on his tyrant, walking towards the living room and discarding his tie, sweater vest and belt along the way. Reluctantly, you followed, scooping up any bit of clothing he dropped on the floor and placing it on a book shelf to take care of later.

"-So what if I don't drink but now I do, I'm an adult I can do what I want. I should be able to come home and relax and spend time with my girlfriend but i can't because everyday I get called into work about a missing child or a murdered college student or the president recieved a threatening note-"

You watched him closely as he plopped onto the couch, taking note of the pain and exhaustion in his voice, the years of working at the BAU finally come crashing down on him full swoop, leaving you to stand and listen as you watched the tears well up in his eyes and listened to his voice crack.

"I wanted to help kids, but not like this. I wanted to help college students understand academics, but not like this. I wanted to get married, have kids, write a book... but not like this. I can't even come home to my girlfriend after a week of work and spend one whole day with her without getting called in to save the universe it feels like."

You had sat down next to him slowly, listening to his words carefully as he spoke, taking them in with tenderness and sympathy. And slowly, -but hesitantly- you raised your hand up to brush a lone tear from his cheek, wiping it away with your thumb gently before cuffing his face in your hands and guiding him to look you in the eyes.

"You can do and be whatever you want to, and I'll still love you all the same, Spencer. You don't need to hold yourself to such high expectations. Such high expectations that you can't even comprehend, a man with an eiditic memory and an I.Q of 187." He laughed through his tears at your prolonged statement, earning a smile from your lips in response and a small giggle from your throat as remembrance.

"You know, this is why you're my girlfriend, right?"

"Yes I do, now how about we get ready for bed, hmm?"

As the night goes on, you helped him get stressed for bed, his lanky and drunken body basically collapsing into your shared queen size bed after he had gotten himself out of his work clothes and into some comfy pajamas. And as you got in bed with him, he couldn't help but cuddle up to your side, locking you in next to his body with one of his legs wrapped around yours, his arm draped over your waist and his face nuzzled into your neck before he fell asleep at the snap of the fingers, his light snores heating against your skin and causing you to smile before you closed your eyes for a well needed rest.

You woke up just before the sun started to rise, body sweaty, breath hot from a heated dream, the last vivid scene in your mind being of Spencer's lips latched to one of your perk nipples. And as you slowly gathered your consciousness, you realized, Spencer was doing exactly that.

His eyes were closed, your shirt slid up to your neck with with hands groping your breasts lightly, his lips latched onto one of your nipples as his fingers play with the other one gently, twisting and tugging it, earning a gasp and moan from your throat promptly as your back arched against his touch, yearning for more.

Wake up sex was something you guys agreed upon early on in the relationship, it was something you enjoyed doing for him far too often, watching him stir softly underneath your grasp as his cock hardens in your mouth and he slowly wakes to realize how you were pleasing him.

It was exilerating.

His hands glided down to your hips, his fingers moving swiftly to wrap around the hem of your shorts and underwear and pull them down your legs, removing them from your body with such care you had felt so many times during intimate moments like these, but his touch never failed to send you quivering beneath him, leaving yourself vulnerable to his demands and wishes.

"I need you to be completely relaxed for me.."

He whispered lowly, his breath mingling with yours as he eases himself into your warm, wet, heat.

He had himself propped on his elbows, looking Dien at your every feature and every expression as he slowly thrusts himself in and out of your divining heat, one hand braced on your thigh where his fingers dug into gently. You moaned softly, eyebrows furrowed as your hands roam his bare shoulders, nails digging into his skin and leaving small red marks while he continues his passionate venture through across your body. You were a crescendo within the confines of your room, the smell of sweat and sex filling the air while the sunlight kisses your love-striken skin, only feeding into Spencer's desires as he gazes upon your face and body during your climax, gripping your chin gently so you can look him in the eyes while you scream your praises through words, and physical release.

And as you lay there, eyelids heavy, breathing calmed down with the blanket draped over your naked body, Spencer lay next to you, a cigarette in his hand, a habit he only admitted around you, but something he never did in the house.

"I always thought that we might have been brains floating around in space, coming up with the scenarios life had to offer." His voice was tired, and yet full of a sincerity and longing. "Always thought that maybe when we die, we'll be sent into the vast void of nothingness where we're left to think about our figment of imagination. Life as so dull, so colorless...Felt like a repeat of breakfast food, until you tripped over your own feet while holding five cups of coffee and gave me a second degree burn." A small smile was placed on his lips as he took a drag from his cigarette, inhaling deeply before exhaling slowly with his words, a cloud of smoke coming out with each one.

"I think I'm going to quit my job at the BAU. And I want to take the next step in our lives as a couple."

Goodbye everyone I'll remember you all in therapy~! :D

[urmammy]

he's serving CVNT, he's serving FIERCE, he's serving HURRICANE, KATRINA, IVY, HE'S SERVING GAWD GIRL GLAM HE'S SERVING DADDY ISSUES HE'S

Spencer reid

[urmammy]

eternity

prints | high res on patreon

[urmammy]

YES, Honey miss glam, God, girl, slay queen, glam, honey boo-boo, glam miss, GOD honey, girl, miss glam, slay boo-boo--

[urmammy]

Stuck in a closet with Miguel

Disclaimer: These were messages between me and a bot on Janitor A.I, written by @Help me, with an INSANE amount of editing. I take ZERO credit for 95% of the writing, and I just thought you guys might get a kick out of it since I did.

Warnings: +18 content below, Oral sex. That's about it, I'm not sure how to give warnings please give me tips below-

Miguel growled and pulled you closer, you were both hiding in a supply closest and you were in his lap. “Quit squirming.” he huffed

Miguel sighed annoyed, you had made a simple mistake and got the mission compromised so yeah, he definitely blamed you for being in this situation Miguel grew more and more uncomfortable as he heard people looking and yet failing to find you both, the problem was you wouldn’t stop moving

"I'm sorry! Your fucking gun is uncomfortable ass hell in my ass!" You whisper shouted, your cheeks red as you carefully used your words, knowing very well it wasn't a gun. You were breathing heavily, body sticky with sweat underneath your suit as frantic yelling and scattering was heard outside the closet, seemingly hunting for you two. You put your ear to the door to try and listen in on the conversation.

Miguel's lips curled into a tight line as he maintained his stoic expression, but his eyes flickered with a mixture of annoyance and amusement. He leaned forward, his breath tickling your ear as he whispered, "Easy. That's not a gun." His voice was low and rumbled like a growl, sending a shiver down your spine.

As you pressed your ear against the door, straining to catch any snippets of the conversation outside, Miguel instinctively tightened his grip on your waist, his fingers digging into your hips. Despite the urgency of the situation, his touch was surprisingly gentle, his firm hold offering some semblance of security amidst the chaos.

You could hear muffled voices, snippets of instructions and determination filtering through the door. Miguel's jaw clenched, his body tensing against yours. "We don't have much time," he murmured, his voice laced with urgency now. "We need to find another way out."

His words were interrupted by the frantic sound of footsteps approaching the closet, your heart leaping into your throat. Without hesitation, Miguel sprang into action, quickly shifting his weight and maneuvering the two of you to crouch behind a stack of crates at the back of the closet. As the footsteps grew closer, Miguel pressed his body against yours, his strong, muscular frame acting as a shield to hide you from view. The heat from his body radiated against your back, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, "Don't make a sound."

The voices outside grew louder, blending with the pounding of your heart in your chest. But despite the overwhelming tension, you couldn't help but notice the way Miguel's body pressed against yours, the subtle movements that sent electric shivers coursing through your veins.

The door to the closet swung open, revealing two armed guards. Their voices filled the small space, their menacing presence enough to make your blood run cold. But Miguel remained steady, unyielding. He held his breath, pulling you even closer to him, as though merging your bodies could somehow make you invisible. Time seemed to crawl as the guards searched the closet, their boots thudding against the floor. Your body tingled with anticipation, the close proximity intensifying your senses. The scent of Miguel's aftershave mixed with the musky, adrenaline-filled air, creating an intoxicating aroma that filled your nostrils.

As the guards moved closer, their voices reaching a crescendo, Miguel's grip on you tightened. He pressed a finger over your lips, signaling you to stay quiet. His touch was electrifying, his warmth seeping through your skin, igniting a fire that smoldered between your bodies.

Just as you thought you couldn't bear the tension any longer, the guards abruptly turned and left the closet, their footsteps fading into the distance. The air around you became still once again, but the electricity lingering between you and Miguel remained, pulsing with an undeniable intensity. Miguel finally released his hold on you, his movements controlled yet graceful. He rose to his feet, offering you a hand to help you up. His gaze met yours, his eyes reflecting a mixture of relief and determination. "We need to move," he murmured, his voice husky. "Are you ready?"

You nodded your head slowly, as he guided you out of the closet. Your heart was beating out of your chest as you both scanned the area carefully, making sure nobody was around to see your escape. Miguel kept a watchful eye as the two of you cautiously made your way through the narrow corridor. The tension in the air was palpable, the stakes higher than ever. Every step you took was deliberate, silent, as though the walls themselves were conspiring against you. Yet, Miguel's presence beside you provided a touch of reassurance in this perilous dance.

The dimly lit hallway was adorned with flickering lights, casting eerie shadows that seemed to dance and twist along the walls. Miguel's grip on your hand tightened, his fingers entwining with yours, grounding you in his unwavering strength. His touch felt electrifying, sending a tremor of anticipation coursing through your veins.

As you peered around a corner, Miguel's stoic expression softened slightly, allowing a flicker of concern to surface in his eyes. "Stay close," he whispered, his voice a low rasp. The intensity of the moment was not lost on him, and his protective instinct kicked into overdrive.

Moving with utmost stealth, you navigated through the labyrinthine corridors, avoiding any potential danger that lurked in the shadows. Time seemed to bend and stretch as you relied on instinct, trust, and each other's presence to guide you through the treacherous maze. Finally, you reached a seemingly disused stairwell, its rusty metal steps winding upward toward the promise of freedom. The staircase creaked beneath your weight, the echo resonating through the air. Miguel paused for a moment, his dark eyes fixed on yours, a silent understanding passing between you. The urgency of your predicament ignited a fierce determination within both of you.

With unwavering resolve, you ascended the stairs, each step bringing you closer to the exit, closer to the possibility of escape. The sound of your footsteps carried a whispered promise—a promise of survival, triumph, and the visceral thrill of escaping the clutches of danger.

As you reached the top, you emerged onto a rooftop bathed in moonlight, the cityscape spread out before you like a mesmerizing tapestry. It was a breathtaking sight, but there was no time to marvel at the view. Miguel's hand tightened in yours once more, pulling you swiftly towards the edge of the roof. A series of well-placed zip lines stretched across the skyline, a secret route reserved for those daring enough to challenge the status quo. With practiced ease, Miguel secured the harnesses around both of you, his eyes shining with a newfound determination. He cast a quick glance towards you, ensuring that you were ready to take the leap into the unknown.

And then, with a wild burst of adrenaline, you both propelled yourselves off the edge of the building, soaring through the night like liberated spirits. The wind whipped against your face, the rush of freedom drowning out the chaos that you had left behind. In that moment, as your bodies intertwined in the exhilarating descent, Miguel's touch ignited a fire within you. Every brush of his skin against yours, every whisper of his breath in your ear, sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, intertwining with the adrenaline pulsating through your veins.

Time seemed suspended, the world around you fading into a blur of lights and sensations. As you reached the end of the zip line, landing safely on a secluded rooftop, you couldn't help but feel alive, every nerve tingling with a newfound fervor. Breathless and flushed with exhilaration, you and Miguel exchanged a knowing glance, a silent acknowledgment of the unstoppable chemistry that had sparked between you. The dangers may have forced you together, but it was the raw passion that truly brought you alive in each other's arms.

With a smirk tugging at his lips and a glint of mischief in his eyes, Miguel leaned closer, his voice a low rumble against your ear. "Our escape might be thrilling, but believe me, we're just getting started."

A shiver ran down your spine as his hot breath fanned over your ear, the bulge in between his legs being too hard to ignore, your eyes glancing down to look at it for a split second before snapping back to his red orbs. Miguel's eyes darkened with desire as he caught the flicker of your gaze towards the unmistakable bulge between his legs. His lips curved into a wicked grin, the hunger in his gaze intensifying. Without a word, he took a step closer, closing the space between you.

His hand reached up to cup your cheek, his touch firm yet gentle. "I can see the hunger in your eyes," he rasped, his voice laced with seduction. "Don't deny yourself what you crave."

A surge of arousal shot through you, ignited by his words and the electric tension that crackled in the air. In that moment, the proximity between you felt charged, the whispers of temptation too alluring to resist. With a swift, decisive movement, Miguel's lips crashed onto yours in a searing kiss. His mouth moved against yours with a hunger that matched your own, a collision of lips and tongues that set your senses ablaze. His kiss was demanding yet intoxicating, a mix of raw desire and unspoken passion.

As his lips claimed yours, his hands traversed the contours of your body, exploring every curve with a heated urgency. With each touch, your body responded, craving more of his intoxicating presence. His fingers traced the line of your spine, teasingly dipping lower until they found the curve of your backside, squeezing and caressing in a deliberate rhythm that sent waves of pleasure cascading through your body. Driven by insatiable desire, Miguel pulled you closer, his hands hungrily roaming over your body, mapping every contour, relishing in the feel of your skin against his fingertips. The heat between you intensified as your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss, as though trying to meld your beings into one.

A soft moan of pleasure escaped you, swallowed by his mouth as your bodies pressed together, the friction igniting a fire within you both. Your need for him consumed your every thought, abandoning all logic and restraint in the pursuit of ecstasy. Miguel broke the kiss, his breath heavy with desire as he locked eyes with you. His voice was a husky whisper, laden with longing. "I want you," he confessed, his voice rough with need. "I need to taste every inch of you."

With a swift movement, he scooped you up into his arms, effortlessly lifting you as though you weighed nothing. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, locking him in place as he carried you to a nearby rooftop ledge. Gently, he set you down, his gaze devouring your body with an intensity that sent a surge of heat pooling between your thighs. His lips descended upon your neck, nipping and trailing a path of fire along your delicate skin. The sensation was exquisite, a delicate dance of pleasure and hunger that pushed you further into the depths of desire.

You moved quickly as you reached behind his neck and deactivated the rest of his suit for him, swiftly deactivating your own suit before roaming my hands all over his body. His arms, shoulders, back. Your lips were trailing over his neck, begging and itching to find that sweet spot of his, latching onto it once he moaned out in approval. Miguel let out a low, guttural moan as your lips found that sensitive spot on his neck, a spot that unleashed a wave of pleasure throughout his body. His hands eagerly explored every inch of your exposed skin, caressing your back, your sides, and drawing you closer to him.

A surge of boldness overtook you as you sank to your knees before him, your eyes locked with his. A smirk played on your lips as you grasped the waistband of his pants, teasingly tugging them down to free his throbbing arousal from its constraint. The sight of him, swollen and ready, was enough to make your own desire surge to new heights. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips in anticipation as you closed the distance between you. With a feather-light touch, your lips brushed against the tip of him, relishing the soft gasp that escaped his lips. Slowly, sensually, you took him into your mouth, savoring the taste and texture that was uniquely his.

As you lavished him with your mouth, your hands continued their exploration, roaming over his thighs, his hips, and the small of his back.

Each movement and touch was a carefully crafted symphony of pleasure, aimed at driving him to the brink of ecstasy. Miguel's hands threaded themselves through your hair, guiding your movements as he let out a series of breathless moans and grunts. The rhythm between you intensified, the mingling of his pleasure and your own need fueling the flames that consumed you both. Lost in the throes of desire, your pace quickened, your movements more urgent, as you felt him grow impossibly harder in your mouth. The heady mixture of his taste, the sounds of his pleasure, and the undeniable power you held in your hands sent you spiraling further into bliss.

Driven by a primal need to please him, you continued to lavish him with your mouth, your lips and tongue working in unison to bring him closer to the edge. And just as he reached that precipice, that culmination of pleasure, you took him deeper, feeling him pulse within your throat. He was pulsing in your throat, your eyes watering, drool dripping down your chin as you looked up at him with a longing need to have him finish in your throat

Miguel's eyes locked with yours, a mix of ecstasy and raw desire shining in their depths. He clenched his teeth, his gaze filled with an intensity that could ignite the very air around you. The overwhelming urge to please him, to taste his release, consumed your thoughts. With a deep, primal groan, Miguel surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through his veins. Every stroke of your mouth, every flick of your tongue pushed him closer to the edge. His grip tightened in your hair, his hips twitching involuntarily as he surrendered himself to the waves of pleasure crashing over him.

As his body tensed and his breath hitched, you felt the first pulse of his release. Your mouth, already filled with him, eagerly accepted every drop, swallowing greedily as he emptied himself into the depths of your throat. The taste of his essence, salty and musky, sent shivers of delight down your spine.

His body trembled with the force of his orgasm, his eyes locked onto yours, filled with a mixture of awe and gratitude. With each pulse, he surrendered more of himself, leaving you feeling utterly empowered, completely in control of his pleasure.

As the last tremors of his climax subsided, Miguel's grip on your hair loosened, releasing you from your delightful task. You stood slowly, a mixture of satisfaction and longing pulsing through your own body. The intensity of the moment lingered in the air, electrifying the space between you.

Miguel's eyes searched yours, his voice husky with desire. "You are unlike anyone I've ever known," he murmured, his words laced with reverence. "The fire within you burns brighter than any star."

The connection between you felt both intimate and profound, a bond forged in passion and vulnerability. You shared a moment of silent understanding, knowing that this was only the beginning of a journey that would explore the depths of your desires. With a gentle caress against your cheek, Miguel leaned in to capture your lips in a deep, soul-stirring kiss. The taste of him mingled with your own, a sweet and heady mix that left you craving more.

I really need a hobby.

The world around you faded into insignificance as you stayed locked in that passionate embrace, your bodies pressed together in a sensual dance. In this moment, the constraints of time and circumstance vanished, leaving only the raw intensity of your connection. As your lips parted, breathless and hungry, you knew that this was just the beginning of a journey fueled by pleasure, exploration, and a shared hunger for one another. The night held endless possibilities, and together, you were ready to take on whatever awaited you, emboldened by the desires that bound you together.

I really love the creaters of these bots.

Plz help-

[urmammy]

My new Astarion WIP that i already love <3

[urmammy]

PLEASE. HE HAS MY WIFE, MY KIDS, THE DOG, THE GOLDFISH, MY DINGER PRINT, MY SOCI-

[urmammy]

We have the same type ruby.. 👀

Hot broken and sad men with fangs and red eyes?

[urmammy]

WRITERS

I know it sounds really cool to say a character’s voice ‘dropped an octave.’ Octave is a cool word. But it is a HUGE drop. Imagine going from your normal speaking voice to almost the lowest note you can hit. Like, Optimus Prime with a sore throat kinda voice. THAT is what it sounds like when most people lower their speaking voice an octave.

This is a plea my fellow writers. I humbly offer “dropped to its lowest register” in its stead. Still cool sounding. Doesn’t conjure the thought of characters with demon hell voice. Readers who also know music will clamor at your feet in appreciation. It’s a win all around