#*screaming violently into a pillow*

[cottonpuffmouse]

I have learned, God, that what I want comes at too high a cost. I have learned the fallacy of my wants. I am visionless and have been insisting my ideas should lead the path.

I relent!

You have won our game. You have punished this filthy loser.

Will you now not show us the grace and mercy we align with your name?

[thephantomtheory]

oh im fucking SICK SICK

[wild-flowerhoney]

reading smut in your language after getting used to english feels scandalous. like, omg that's too explicit...

[aletterinthenameofsanity]

Going back and re-reading fic that you no longer have a hyperfixation for allows you to view it almost as something separate than you, meaning that you can cry and laugh and scream and curse the author without feeling like the world's greatest egomaniac.

Anyway, on that note, this excerpt from my fic where Eleven and Thirteen cross paths? Had me actually crying and out loud hissing at the author of the fic "Who the hell gave you the right to do this? Fuck you! How dare you?" as if I'm not the one who wrote it.

[wingstobetorn]

Screaming in your room actually helps! Not by a lot! But a bit! Just don't do it to a point your throat hurts.

[darehearts]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ —     {      JAMES T. KIRK EDIT 9   /   ?      }  |  MUTUALS MAY REBLOG.

[lukewarmsnakepiss]

i am so totally normal (i am going insane)

[supernova-151]

you know i could say so much but i wish people who havent watched the show or dont remember this scene would just guess what this is in reaction to

[spring-lxcked]

Takes your face in my hands. I need you to understand before reading this that, while I discuss William's personality being, in some ways, a reflection of how he was raised, this is not in reference to the horrific murders. Even if he had had a near perfect childhood, he always would have turned out a serial killer. Any discussions of his parents' effects on him are about personality and how he raises his kids. That's it. Also boohoo none of this excuses any of his behavior lmao.

Overall, William's childhood wasn't abnormal for the time. He grew up in a household that had been middle class, but struggled during and after the war. He lived in a relatively small town—not quite rural, but lacking in the bustle of city life. A mid-sized home built in the 30's. A mother and a father who were very much products of both the times and their own childhoods. A sister one year older to whom he was very close. It had all the makings of a standard childhood.

William's relationship with his parents was complicated—something his sister could relate to as well. Their parents were Ethel and Sidney, a pair who fit right into the norms of the time. Ethel was a housewife, albeit not opposed to Jayne's desire to work, and Sidney was an office worker turned automotive technician. While they swore that they loved their children, their relationship with them was simultaneously strict and distant. Once they were old enough to be away from their parents, they were sent outdoors to play with only the expectation of being back in time for meals. The notion of actually playing with their children was beyond them—they were far too "busy" to engage in that kind of thing.

Their father was an infrequent presence in their life, often either working or spending his time off relaxing rather than with the kids. He did, however, teach William how to work on cars. These moments are some of the few genuinely fond memories he has of his father. Their mother, although much more present, was emotionally distant and not particularly skilled at expressing her love. The mother who would hold William when he was young and pet his hair when he cried faded as he aged. The household could be best described as cold outside of William and Jayne's relationship.

Emotions were a touchy subject and "sensitivity" was not tolerated beyond a certain age. While crying or showing strong emotions was shamed in general in the household, the society of the time only reinforced this to William as a boy. Meanwhile Jayne was forced to withstand the assumption of maturity far before William. Despite their close ages, she was expected to be more in control of herself than William as a girl. The negative feelings around showing emotion are something that affected both of them. Neither are good at opening up except, to some degree, to one another.

The relationship with William's parents became more strained with age as he began acting out. Repressed anger—a kind he couldn't put a name to nor explain—led to him lashing out at those around him. (This, and a genuine enjoyment of scaring and even, at times, harming others.) William took the concept of a "bully" to a new level—the older he got, the more his fellow teenagers began to question if he was actually dangerous. Friends were hard to come by, and William had never had a good grasp on making friends as it were. Despite his actions, Jayne stuck by him, hoping to talk him down from his escalating behavior. If he had a best friend at this time, or a friend at all, it was her. His parents, on the other hand, inevitably gave up on him—something they told him outright. No amount of punishment seemed to help, and they knew nothing else. Even when he began to pull himself together at 17/18, they no longer had any use for him.

Cutting off his parents when he moved to America had been easy enough. Outside of a call here or there, he ceased any interaction with them. When his mother became sick, he didn't go home. When either died, he didn't attend the funeral. Although she would never admit it, Jayne never quite forgives him for that—for leaving her to handle it all by herself.

William's childhood has major impacts on how he parents his own children. On one hand, he strives to be better than his parents were. On the other, he is still his parents' child. Where his parents were unwilling (when able) to provide their kids with the things they wanted (rather than just needed), he spoils his kids materially. Where his parents were not active in a lot of his life, he regularly tries to involve or be involved with his kids. Where his parents were overly strict, he can be almost too lax (at least early on). But, much like his own father, he loses himself in work, excusing his absence (or having to haul the kids with him post-divorce) on "providing for his family." Like his mother, he's entirely emotionally unavailable and incapable of showing anything beyond the most basic comfort.

[loismagic]

accidentally finding demily songs at 11pm but wow Avril Lavigne’s ‘Hello Heartache’ is 100% their song now

You were perfect I was unpredictable It was more than worth it But not too sensible

Young and foolish That seemed to be the way I was stupid To think that I could stay Oh oh To think that I could stay

Goodbye my friend Hello heartache It's not the end It's not the same Wish it didn't have to be this way but You will always mean the world to me, love Goodbye my friend Hello heartache

[delicatepoets]

i have listened to middlemarch (specifically the last episode) almost twice a day this past week…. its getting terribly bad

[fairysluna]

moTHER. OH MY GOD.

TAYLOR SWIFT Person of the Year - TIME Magazine (Dec 06, 2023)

[mvnces]

here to elaborate silas being cujo-coded because both of them so heavily have the ‘I’m not a violent dog, I don’t know why I bite’ vibes going on

[consciouscarrot]

day 29 - squirting [e.munson]

eddie munson x fem!reader

content warnings; squirting, vaginal fingering, p in v, creampie, handcuffs

notes; (as always) mdni, blank blogs get blocked and any/all feedback is much appreciated <3:) also i think i switched tenses a little bit at the end

kinktober/flufftober masterlist

—————

hands locked in handcuffs that were attached to the battered headboard, you were lying in eddies bed, previously neatly arranged pillows a mess behind you, head tilted back with a drawn out moan.

it had started with him reading something in a magazine, he’d spend a few days wondering if he could make you do it, if you were even willing to try. he’d ended up with a few awkward boners at the mere thought, head fogged with images of fluid spilling from your cunt as your body shook beneath him.

you’d noticed that he’d being quieter than usual, asking if he was okay with a furrowed brow. he’d immediately caved and asked you, hands gripped at your hips as he plead with you to let him.

you’d agreed, barely thinking anything of it as you already knew that you definitely couldn’t do it. you’d tried by yourself a couple of years ago after your friends had been talking about it, raving on about how great it felt, urging you to try, saying it would ‘change your life for the better’.

you’d spend nearly an hour trying, only to end up disappointed and overstimulated, and had never bothered to give it another go. you’d told him as much, but he was adamant that he tried, saying that he was sure could do it.

now, your hands wriggled within their constraints, yearning to reach out and touch him, to cling to his body and hair. eddie had already made you cum countless times, thighs now constantly trembling as he held them back with his forearm.

his head tilted as he watched his fingers pump in and out of your soaked cunt rapidly, slick coated fingertips hitting that sweet spot deep inside you repeatedly, making your head swim and back arch off the bed.

you gasped as you fell over the edge again, hands clenching into a fist, chest heaving as you panted through it, whining and moaning when he didn’t bother slowing his movements, fucking you through the overstimulation.

you felt lightheaded with pleasure, trying to say anything to get him to give you a break, heartbeat pounding in your ears, face scrunched up and whimpering.

“c’mon baby, you’re so close, i can feel it. you can do it, sweet thing,”

you shook your head, completely blissed out but still not believing that you’d be able to, eyes pressed tightly shut.

“yes you can, i’m not stopping until you allow it to happen,” eddie barked out a laugh, digits somehow moving even quicker.

your mouth gaped open, constant strings of moans tumbling out. if you’d been any more lucid, you’d have been embarrassed by the loud, wet squelching emanating from your cunt, so loud even with your pathetic whining echoing around eddie’s bedroom.

your eyes shot open, gasping in panic as a strange, new sensation started in your stomach, feeling eerily similar to needing to pee. you writhed about, desperately trying to hold back, tears falling down your face in humiliation as the feeling worsened, and you were certain you were going to ruin his bed.

he shushed you, stroking soothing motions over your thigh, “it’s okay, let it happen, just let go f’me.”

he pushed his palm down on your lower belly, and with one last cry, you finally let go, fluid squirting out around his still moving fingers, covering both him and the bed.

you’d never felt this good in your life, entire body locking up before you shook violently, bed frame creaking from your convulsions. your cunt pulsed and clenched sporadically, head pushing back against the pillows as you screamed out, unable to care about any of his neighbours hearing you, too caught up in the ecstasy.

eddie groaned at the sight of you, unable to hold back and wait for you come down, he flung your legs over his shoulders, pushing his twitching cock straight into you, your cunt still throbbing with the last remnants of your orgasm, poor hole overstimulated and oh so sensitive.

he wasted no time in pounding into you, tugging on your lip with his teeth as you wailed, squirming beneath him the best you could with him pinning you down into the mattress, wrists rubbed raw from the metal still encasing them.

your feet dangled over his shoulders, onyx curls tickling your sweaty skin, chest heaving as you pathetically tried to push him off, unable to do anything but try and take it, uncontrollable moans and screams barely muffled as he pressed his mouth against yours, lips stretching into a smug grin at your rapture.

you both reached the edge quickly, hips stuttering as his balls drew up before shooting out sticky ropes of pearlescent cum from his tip, painting your quivering walls white.

through his high, he tried to keep you grounded as you gushed around him, body writhing as you blacked out briefly from the sheer amount of pleasure your body had been wracked with in such a short amount of time, salt stained cheeks stretching as you couldn’t help but scream, cloudy liquid spraying out of your cunt again.

you panted, whimpering from empty feeling as he pulled out, eyes glazed over as your head tipped back, going limp in his arms, legs still shaking forcibly.

“fucking hell,” eddie exhaled slowly, before reaching up to finally unlock the handcuffs, rubbing gently at your sore wrists and grinning down at the empty headed look on your face, completely speechless and about thirty seconds away from passing out again.

“i told you you could do it, baby. you know i’m never wrong.”

[abbysbug]

— fucking ellie w/ strap for the first time

“oh my fucking god,” ellie whines out, “i- fuck. y/n, please go faster.”

her whines and moans are pathetic. not that you mind them, of course.

“feel good, huh?” you chuckle at ellie’s eager head nod. you know it feels good from the way she’s dripping down your strap. “should’ve let me fuck you earlier,”

“s-shut the hell up.”

you slow your thrust down, making ellie whine in annoyance.

“or i can stop fucking you now and leave you on edge. is that what you want?”

“no please don’t, baby. i’m sorry.”

you smile at ellie’s apology and speed up your thrusts. all that is heard in the room is the sound of sticky skin slapping together and ellie’s breathy moans.

“i’m gonna cum, oh god.” ellie shoves her face into the pillow, embarrassed at how easily you’ve gotten her to that pleasurable edge.

you grab her hair and pull her upright so her back is against your front. she moans loudly at the pain that spreads across her scalp.

you kiss down her neck, occasionally nipping at it and making her whine. your trail your fingers down her stomach, stopping when you reach her clit.

“beg.”

“please, baby.”

she could beg better than that, but you decide to be lenient. with the pleasure of you fucking her with your strap and now rubbing her clit, she’s quickly thrown over the edge.

her back arches and her mouth drops open in a silent scream. her body shivers violently as she comes down from her high.

you think she looks absolutely beautiful in this moment.

“such a good girl.” you mumble, kissing all over her face and rubbing her stomach in a soothing manner.

she’s your good girl.

[lokisgoodgirl]

Teenage Dream [Loki x Reader]

A link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: A trip to Asgard means a visit to Loki's childhood bedroom - and his teenage fantasy. (w/c 1.9k) Warnings: 18+ only. Loki x Female Reader. Established relationship. Smut. Body fluids etc etc. Language.

“This is your childhood bedroom?!” Loki’s arms spread wider, turning in a lazy circle as you gape at the high ceilings and golden cornicing. Open archways lead to a balcony which runs along the full side of one wall, Asgard sprawling below in afternoon sunlight. It’s huge.

“What did you expect?” Loki shoots a lovingly indignant look over his shoulder. “Some kind of hovel-sized quarter the kind of which Stark has bestowed on Lang?”

His boots thud in quick succession on polished marble before he jumps through the air and lands on the modest queen-size with a bounce – a hand balled at his temple. The sheets have clearly been replaced since he last laid in it, but old habits die hard. The green and gold of his colours is in full effect in this room from the curtains to the tapestries and the quilt draped across the mattress. “Lie with me,” he says, looking up through his lashes. “Please?”

Something about seeing Loki dressed in his, what he still calls, ‘Midgard garms’ suddenly seems ridiculous in one of Asgard’s royal bedchambers. A pair of tight black jeans cling to his muscles, denim shifting as he draws one knee over the other to rest on the bed. His forest green t-shirt has ridden up at his lower stomach, a victim of the obscene measurements of his stretching body. He chuckles lightly, making a thick line of his obliques tighten as he slips his fingers further into mussed hair. "I told you I was a prince," he says sheepishly.

You make your way to the bed and he flips to his back, releasing a happy groan as you straddle him. His eyelids droop, a flash of his upper teeth as he bites his bottom lip. "Frigga will be expecting us," you say as you roll your hips against his crotch. "Uhhh...gods-" he grunts, large palms rubbing up your thighs tight on either side of his chest. ‘Frigga can wait. I said I would give you a tour, and give you a tour...I shall.’ "Not from down there you won’t."

You yelp as Loki sits up and his lips fasten to yours, hand cradling the back of your head and forcing you in a violent kiss. He bites your bottom lip, sucking out gently. You moan softly as his hands begin to rub your thighs again. He’s needy. The sentimentality of bringing you Asgard for the first time is doing a real number on him. Your fingers run down his neck, down the hard dips and ridges of his abdomen through the t-shirt.

“I used to pleasure myself in this bed, dreaming of a woman like you-” he says huskily, beginning to thrust upwards. The painfully tight erection bursting against denim rubs against your gusset, toying back and forth. You feel a swell of arousal web between your folds as your eyes dart towards the open door. Just a crack, but it’s enough. The guards are never far in the palace it seems, even for a Prince who’s all grown up.

“Say more,” you tease. It’s a whisper, but it seems to echo. Loki chuckles quietly into the curve of your neck before he tips you easily to the side. You meet the mattress with a bounce, your head disappearing between the crevice of two plush pillows. Loki’s long form rises above you, impossibly rectangular, spread on his knees, the denim screaming around his crotch.

“It may come as a surprise to you that I was an awkward young man,” he starts, riding up the hem of his t-shirt. His leather belt sits maddeningly at the dent of his hips, perfect alabaster skin of his stomach flashing into view. “No!? I would never have guessed...” you joke, surprised at your ability to think straight as Loki’s shirt pops over his head. He throws it away, skittering gently across the marble floor. His eyes flash mischievously.

“But I had urges, of course; fucked myself night after night like a demon; elaborate fantasies formed in my head with excruciating detail.” He falls forward against the pillows, the bulge of his shoulders tensing as he cages you.

“I wouldn’t let myself cum until every detail in my head was perfect,” he breathes, letting long tendrils of hair drag against your throat in time with the filth of his dulcet syllables. “Again and again. It was enough to drive a young man to madness.”

“Did you ever have-?” you start, cut off by a pathetic moan as Loki drags his bound cock against your clit. “Never," he whispers. "This bed is as virginal as myself when I left it.”

The warm glow of his magic pulses from his skin. Loki’s jeans are gone, replaced by a green silk robe open at the waist. It's Asgardian craftsmanship, that much is obvious. Gold weaving edges the hem, its age betrayed only by the sleeves which are a little too short. The sage shimmer melts into the wave of his hair, and for a second you can’t bring yourself to believe there wasn’t a line forming outside his bedroom every night after he came of age.

He rests back on his haunches between your legs, flipping out the robe at the nip of his taut waist. Loki’s eyes smoulder, waiting for you to ask.

“Which one do you want?” you say. It times perfectly with a twitch of his proud cock as he draws a finger back and forth along its length. His chin dips and a small smile creeps at the corner of his lips.

Loki raises a hand, a theatrical snap of his fingers making the ceiling height door to the chamber swing closed with an almighty clang. Even under normal circumstances, doors don’t close quietly in the palace; it is by design.

“My goddess riding me,” he says, raising his gaze to yours. “Then once I’ve filled her, she crawls to my face; smothers me with her perfect, dripping sex; calls my name so loudly in ecstasy that my brother hears it all the way in the taverns.”

Your brows raise. “That’s quite specific.”

Loki shrugs. “I told you. It needed to be perfect. I spent a lot of time thinking about it.” You shuffle up on the pillows, curling one side of his silk robe in a fist and pulling his mouth to yours. He manoeuvres around, lying back against the pillows with bright eyes while you crawl on top of him once more.

“Are you my sweet virginal Prince?” you ask, batting your lashes. Loki snickers. "If you like." “I do.” “Aright then,” he sniffs. “Although I should warn you, for a virgin – I am rather an expert.” “Shhh-” You press a finger to his lips. "I read a lot of books," he explains with overly-earnest eyes, muffled against your finger. “Let’s get you some practice, then..” you whisper, rolling your hips up the length of his cock. Loki whimpers, brows slanting. You can't tell if that part is for show. With a slip of his hand against your ass you feel your dress dissolve, the nip of a breeze through the open arches making your nipples stiffen. Loki’s head leaves the pillow and catches one in his mouth as your hand guides his cock between your legs. You rub the tip against your slit, slipping back and forth as guttural groans roll in his throat.

"My virgin Prince," you coo.

Loki’s head falls back to the pillow, a warning brow rising. But his eyes sparkle. Slowly, you sink down onto his cock; each hard inch of muscle tugging against your walls as you settle to the hilt.

“Every time you do that,” Loki rasps, “it’s everything I ever dreamt of in this bed, I swear.” You flatten a curl of hair back from his forehead, rocking your hips back and forth. His hands slide up your waist, cupping your breasts as he pants beneath you. A vein in his neck throbs as he grits his teeth to the ceiling. He won’t last, not today. And that’s just fine.

You press his shoulders down, limiting his thrusts. If he wanted to, he could overthrow the touch in an instant. But he wont, not today; not in this bed. Every time you reach the tip of his cock you squeeze and his lips part; every time you sink him deep into your cunt they press together, like he doesn’t trust himself not to howl. The squelching is louder now. The moaning, too. You and Loki have fucked many times, in many places – in every conceivable position, each time you think you could never be more aroused, he proves you wrong. But something’s different about him here. When his beautiful eyes open, the dark fan of his lashes seem to pop against the vibrant blue ringing blown pupils.

Loki’s fingers sink deep into the plump of your ass. He pulls in time with your rhythm, drawing the flat of his feet up. In seconds, he sits up to meet your mouth; his tongue lapping against yours with quiet desperation. Your fingers run down his abdomen and you feel his stomach clench.

“Fill me, baby-” you whine into his open mouth, “show me what Asgard’s finest cock can give me.” Loki grunts in pleasured anguish, thrusting in erratic shudders as he erupts inside your heat. The angle is tight. Fresh seed creams at the seal of your slit and wells around the rim of his half-sheathed cock as he comes undone with a ragged exhale of your name. He captures you in a messy kiss, falling away from your mouth to your chest before collapsing back to the pillows. He squints with one eye, a lazy hand beckoning. “You sure?” There’s an unusual shyness in your voice. Loki nods with a wolfish, lopsided grin; drunk on sex. You shuffle up his abdomen, feeling a thick roll of hot cum settling against your inner thigh. Your fingers curl around the wooden headboard, Loki’s large palms settling on your ass and keeping you high. His head tilts, warm tongue tracing your inner thigh and sucking his seed from your skin. A violent shiver of desire rolls down your spine, making you thrust towards his face.

“I’ll try my best-” he purrs in character from between your legs.

His eyes are all you can see as his tongue outstretches. They disappear as he dips further back, running his warmth between your folds. He tilts his chin up, a white pool collected on his tongue. Loki of Asgard looks up from bottomless eyes, the planes of his cheekbones sharpened. You shoot down and jam your tongue into his open mouth. His cum swirls within the kiss, mingling with the earthy taste of your own pussy – swallows and moans and filth sliding down your throats. Loki gasps loudly as your kiss breaks with a slurp. “Was that in your fantasy?” you ask innocently, resuming your position above his head. “I regret now, that even in the depths of my teenage depravity, it was not,” Loki growled, squeezing your ass-cheeks. He nudges you closer. “Now, finish me,” he orders as he pushes you down against his face. The flat of Loki’s tongue meets your plump clit. Each flush and fat stripe of the muscle has no pretence – he intends to make you climax; and climax hard. Your nails dig into the headboard, scratching down pristine oak lined with gold. Images of Loki as a virginal youth rear in your mind, thrashing in these sheets, under this very ceiling, twisting and unravelling beneath the beat of his fist. Your thighs begin to tremble, held steady by his fingertips sinking deep into the curve of your ass. Loki’s tongue is relentless; it swirls and captures every flush of sparking orgasm and tends it with the next lap of his attentions. Before long, your legs tense – and somehow, one of your hands has tangled in his hairline, pushing him deeper, his nose slotted perfectly at the lip of your mound. The sight is all it takes. “Loki-” you choke, punctuated by a final devastatingly soft lick of his flat tongue over your sex. “Mmrph…” he grunts, brow furrowing. You hold your breath as climax shatters you, the exhale a strangled sob of his name that sings around the ceilings and tumbles out the archways.

You collapse on his chest, the two of you panting heavily. A thin sheen of fresh sweat clings to his skin. You trace the angle of his jaw, smiling as a dream-like peace descends on his features. “Do you think Thor heard?” “From Midgard? I doubt it,” Loki sighs, letting one of his legs fall open to the side. He’s hard again. “But I can let that part of the fantasy slide. Everything else was...perfection, my love.” You prop a fist beneath your chin. “Maybe we just need to try harder.”

“Fuck harder, you mean?” Loki says, a smirk curling the corners of his lips. “You did promise me a palace tour…” you say, drawing your knuckles up the velvet skin of his cock stretching against his stomach. Loki’s smirk grows wider.

Tags (continued in comments)

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