#And people being salty over not liking a joke
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
icarusredwings · 1 day ago
Text
Welcome to Tonys Pizza
Tonys is used to having heros (and likewise) frequent their joint. Mr. Laufeyson want a pie? Got it. Peter want a slice? A comin right up. Hell! A cocker spaniel and a mutt wanna kiss out back over a meta balla? Fuck it. This is new york! As long as dem dogs aint from jersey.
Tumblr media
But one of their longest, and possibly weirdest customers is- you guessed it. Wade.
Here at Tonys we got one saying. You make miya mama cry? You getta slap with da pie. Unfortunately this was true until a lawsuit in '17.
But the point still stands.
So one day, when their friend comes with a bit of extra peperoni on him? Who are they to judge? However, They DO heavily judge the fact that he just ordered a large supreme minus everything except the olives and pineapple.
"What!?? Wade you're gonna make me ma cry!" Tony jr (Tony, being his father, who tragically passed when a group of fellas thought 'pizza' was code for dope and not actual pizza) yells, throwing his hands up.
"I know, I know, but you did it for me last time!"
"Last time, my father also kept pineapples just for you in the fridge! Can't be doing that anymore, bad for business."
"Oh but the rat manning the brick oven isn't?"
"Wha!- Who told you bout- cha know what? Fine. Fine!! Aye Vinny! Our pal Wade here wants the usual!"
"WHAT!?" Came from the kitchen before a man comes out, a long rat tail in the back under his hat. You can take this literally or metaphorically.
I don't care. Im just tellin this story not writing it.
"You want me a go buy a whole pineapple just for one pizza!?"
"Yes."
He sighs, loudly taking off his apron and slammed it on the counter, muttering under his breath. "Why always the crazy ones? Move to new york ma said. Its good buisness ma said. ALWAYS the crazy ones!"
"Love ya vinnnyyy~" Wade cooes, watching him leave. Just as he does, The bell rings again. He leans on the counter with a happy grin.
"Welcome to Tonys! Ya make my mama a- c-Cry?!"
"What's taking so long?" Logan grumbles, having just wanted to go home already.
"You're the wolverine.. ThEE wolverine! Aha!! I need to call my mom! She's not gonna believe this! The Wolverine is in OUR shop!!"
Wade giggles, watching as Logan tilts his head at the attention. "Whats with him?"
"You're the Wolverine, bucko. That's a big deal around this place. Now, what do you want on your pizza, big boy?"
".. they do chorizo?"
"Mhmmm~ why? In the mood for some sausage?" Wade teases, smirking more as he coud hear Tony on the phone in the back.
"Ma! Its him! Its really him! Yeah- no, Im lookin at him!"
"....people like you Logan." Wade smiles to him, seeing him frown. "..They like the old Logan.. they think im him."
Wade's toothy grin expands, standing and leaning against him. "With all due respect, Loagie? You're nothing like him. And I love that."
"Hm."
_____
"Alright thank you guys!"
"No problemo, extra pepperoni!" Tony calls, smilin because his tip jar was now full.
"What the fuck did he just call you?" Logan turns. It wasn't hard to tell he was nicknamed this after his skin.
Putting a hand on his forearm, Wade giggles. "Easy tiger. It's an inside joke. When I first came back- like this" he gestures to his face" I asked them for extra pepperoni. They asked how much, and I said as much as I got on my face. Ever since he's called me extra pepperoni. Hey why do you get to be "super cool wolverine" and im just extra pep?"
Logan shrugs, taking the pizza box as he looks at the label, stopping on a fairly not busy side walk a few houses from the apparentment.
"Wait a sec... Wade.. you did tell them one of these were mine right?"
"Huh? What do you mean? I.. I thought I did?"
Opening the boxes, there stood two perfect pinapple olive, chorizo pies. Steaming and ready to be devoured.
The label on the receipt said "Poolverine special"
Logan cringes. "You put pineapple on our pizza??"
But Wade gasps, eyes lighting up. "Sweet salty AND spicy!! Logan, you're a genius!!"
Lets just say.. Wade picked off all the pineapple from Logan's half of the pizza, and he definitely would be returning for more poolverine specials..
Inspired by @sirwadewilsonfromimgur
Enjoy your very stereotypical ficlet
46 notes · View notes
mushroom-for-art · 2 years ago
Note
Id love to see a take on a Pikachu Morph!
Coming right up!
First we have the Lightning Morph
Tumblr media
A simple inoffensive morph that's a favorite amongst people due to being a simplistic shakeup of the usual Pikachu look whilst having no health problem or issues brought upon by the different markings. They're just a zappy guy! There was a brief craze when some Lightning morphs had extended cheek patterns as though lightning was sparking from their cheeks, a favourite being zigzags under the eyes affectionately known as the "Ash Morph" due to the similar shape.
Next we have the Nanab/Banana Morph!
Tumblr media
An adorable morph with colors similar to that of the Nanab beery including the browning spots older Nanabs that need using tend to gain. Another loved morph due to lack of health concerns and how different it looks.
And from the Nanab/Banana Morph comes the Peeled Nanab Morph
Tumblr media
Characterised by having a paler stomach often times a whole pale front this morph is just a slight variation of the Nanab Morph with the pale stomachs like that of the actual Nanab fruit. There is debate over what counts as a 'true' version of this morph some argue it needs to be a whole body stripe others just the stomach, it's up to interpretation really but for a while this Morph whipped up a frenzy due to their cute pale bellies resulting in them selling for more than their original morph counterpart.
The Sweethearts Morph
Tumblr media
A more problematic morph, assumably bred from the banned deluxe shiny morph (the shiny status of this morph is heavily debated as is the legality due to the Pokémon apparent inability to evolve and noted shortened tail that causes issue with absorbing electricity but I digress), and an albino morph making a pink tones Pikachu from the Deluxe Shinys darker more red coat and the Albinos white. They briefly caused a frenzy amongst people with heart shaped patterns having ones selling for much more, however they were quickly banned from being bred and being used in competitions and battles due to health issues. Functionally they are somewhat albino, suffering from many of the similar health conditions they're susceptible to heat exhaustion and heat stroke and require sun protection measures, they often exhaust quickly and can't hold a steady charge and often have eyesight issues. Thus the ones that have been bred must only be kept as companions and not used competitively in any manner.
Lastly the Clown Morph! (hoax)
Tumblr media
A small breeder posted on their social media the creation of the Clown Morph a Spinda like Pikachu that quickly became desired. At about midday the same breeder posted that the morph was in fact an April Fools with a video of their very patient Pikachu partner having the Pokémon paint washed off of them. Many people caused uproar about the deceit claiming the breeder used unsafe paints or that they took money from them for a Clown Morph and used it to boost their business but the claims were quickly disproven as it was just some people very angry and not taking being pranked very well. Most saw the funny side of this hoax.
70 notes · View notes
petrichormore · 1 year ago
Text
!! The following is a rant and is slightly fandom critical, it’s also over-exaggerated and half joking !!
!! I’m just expelling frustration it’s not serious I’m just being silly rn so beware all ye who enter here (and also read the tags) !!
the only character that is allowed to kill an egg without repercussions is q!badboyhalo because this fandom treats him like a glorified nanny and they only care about him when they’re yelling at him to take care of their fav egg. he ain’t that egg’s government-assigned parent and he isn’t responsible for constantly keeping every egg alive but i damn well know if an egg dies on his watch, or if an egg dies of neglect he’s gonna get blamed - especially if an egg dies of neglect since he’s the only islander that cares about that apparently lmao (mostly joking). And the worst part is he’ll probably blame himself too but it honest to god is not his problem.
Bro needs a vacation - an actual one where he’s not taking care of an average of 3 eggs daily lmfao
56 notes · View notes
catpriciousmarjara · 1 year ago
Text
Getting a PHD literally anywhere else: Wow! Congratulations! What a great achievement! Amazing!
Getting a PHD in Gotham: Wow! Amazing! You're now on several Government, Civilian, and Bat watchlists.
So if any of the Wayne kids get a PHD, then the entirety of Gotham would be squinting at them suspiciously. They're rich, so resources, and most likely already insane with all the shit they pull.
What I'm saying is if Jason went and got himself a Doctorate in Literature, the whole city would anticipate the appearance of his villainsona called the Dead Poet(emphasis on the dead) or Bookkeeper or something else similarly nerdy and themed like that for sure.
I just know that it would turn into some Gotham inside joke with memes abound, and everytime Jason would, I don't know, give more funding to the neglected Arts Departments in Gotham University, or go to a school for read alongs to encourage kids to read, Gotham social media would go crazy and be like:
"The Dreaded Villain Dead Poet Reads Alice in Wonderland to Children! How Despicable!"
"Villain Dead Poet Lambasts Government on Banning Books! Leads Librarians to Riot!"
"Dead Poet Ramps up his Villainy by Establishing Educational Programmes in Crime Alley! Uplifting the Poor! What a Dastardly Villain!"
"Dead Poet Goes on Live Ranting About his Favourite Books! Favourite Author is Jane Austen! Is this the Feminist Agenda?"
And so on! It's a meme that refuses to go away. His siblings actively participate, and make the situation worse.
Dick held an online Gotham Villains and Anti-Heroes Poll and Dead Poet came out on top, over Red Hood. Jason is an actual Gotham crime boss, but his crowdfunded villainsona is more popular. No he's not salty about it at all.
Duke would create a montage of Dead Poet sightings.
Stephanie would make a Dead Poet meme compilation.
Tim would arrange Wayne Enterprises to donate to local libraries after allegedly being threatened by the heinous villain Dead Poet. (Jason did ask Tim to do that but not like that)
Barbara created an extremely popular Villain Watch account for Dead Poet.
Cass tweeted out Jason's favourite books as the villain Dead Poets reading list telling people to avoid them 'wink wonk', causing a massive uptick in the sale of those books ala Bigolas Dickolas.
Damian of all people tweeted out a pic of Jason playing with Alfred the cat accusing the evil villain Dead Poet of attempting to kidnap his cat.
And thats not to mention all the shenanigans they pull in their batsonas.
God bless Gotham and it's home grown, organic, not even remotely ethically sourced, free range chaos.
10K notes · View notes
allgoodnamesrgoneee · 14 days ago
Note
Hi i have a jude bellingham request. Shy introverted reader that is scared of social interactions, who starts pulling back from jude after a bad event and he comforts her. Some angst mixed with fluff pls(u can add some smut if u want to idrc) thankss🫶🏾
Insecure
Masterlist
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — You're insecure and he reassures you.
𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — Jude Bellingham x You
𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 6.8k
Warnings! Angst (but only a little bit for the plot), FLUFF!! Jude being the best boyfriend, NSFW! SMUT (18+), oral sex (f receiving), sweet love making, protected sex (for once),
The notifications on your phone felt relentless.
Each buzz, each ping, eating away at your self-esteem.
It had all started a couple of weeks ago when Jude invited you to a gala. You hadn't thought much of it—an evening spent in a sleek gown by his side, pretending to enjoy the swirling champagne and over-polished conversations.
Jude had introduced you to a few people, his arm around your waist the entire night. For a moment, you'd felt like you belonged.
Until now.
You had only taken a few seconds to scroll through the comments, the ones you could bear to look at before your fingers began to tremble and your throat tightened. The first one caught your eye, cruel and biting, its words harsh and unforgiving.
"How did he end up with her? She’s so basic. 🙄"
The words stung, a visceral ache, but you read on.
"Girl’s shaped like a fridge and dating a star. Make it make sense. 🥴"
You should’ve closed the app, should’ve thrown the phone across the room, should’ve stopped. But you couldn’t. You needed to know, needed to see, needed to feel the weight of it all like a punch to the gut that you couldn’t escape.
The comments piled up, each more venomous than the last, each one cutting deeper than you thought possible.
"Bet she’s just in it for the fame. 🚩"
"Wow, he downgraded HARD. Can’t believe this. 😂"
You felt the familiar sting in your chest, the way your breath caught in your throat as you read them. Each word a dagger, each sentence an echo of your worst insecurities.
"Imagine thinking you’re hot enough to date him with that body. 🤡"
"If I had her face, I’d be embarrassed to leave the house, let alone post. 😬"
You couldn’t breathe now. The phone felt like a weight, pulling you down as you sank further into the dark hole of self-doubt that had always been there, lurking, waiting for the perfect moment to pull you under.
"Pathetic."
You felt the tears before they came, hot and salty on your cheeks. You hated this. Hated what people were saying. Hated how it made you feel. Hated that you'd thought it was a good idea to scroll in the first place.
And hated even more that Jude would see.
The tears fell faster now, and you couldn't do anything to stop it.
You tried to wipe them away, but they just kept coming, never-ending like the messages on your phone. Each drop a reminder of how small you felt, how unworthy you were. Your chest tightened with the kind of suffocating shame you hadn’t known since high school.
Your thumb hovered over the screen, ready to block the app, to retreat, to hide. But the instinct was stronger. You wanted to see more. You wanted to know if the cruelty would ever end, or if you were doomed to be the punchline of a joke you hadn’t asked to be part of.
But what if they were right? What if he did downgrade? What if you were just a blip in his life, a temporary distraction until someone else, someone better, came along?
The thought gnawed at you, whispering its doubts until you weren’t sure which way was up anymore.
You did the only thing you knew to do.
You deleted the app, and anything related to it from your phone. It wasn’t the bravest move, but it was better than reading the same comments over and over again. Because at the end of the day that's what you were.
A coward.
The next few days went by in a blur.
You barely remembered them.
The world outside felt muffled, distant, as if everything was happening on the other side of a thick glass wall. You went through the motions—work, meals, sleep—but there was a hollowness to it, an absence where joy should’ve been. The phone sat untouched, the social media apps gone, erased from your life like they never existed.
And you were ignoring Jude.
The calls, the texts, the messages. All ignored. You didn't know how to face him and the possiblity of those comments being true.
He had never once made you feel bad about yourself, but the fear remained, eating at you like a living, breathing thing.
If you could just stay away, stay quiet, he'd never know. And you'd be able to save face.
The phone buzzed again, shrill against the quiet of your apartment. You ignored it. It buzzed again. And again.
When it stopped, you let out a sigh of relief that was short-lived. It started ringing. Loud. Insistent.
You knew who it was before you even saw his name across the screen.
You hesitated, the phone in your hand feeling like a live wire. You could almost hear his voice through the screen, warm and persistent, the kind that always made you feel safe. But now? Now, all you could hear were the words from those comments, echoing in your mind. You’re not good enough for him. You’re just a placeholder, a filler for when someone better comes along.
The ringing continued, each ring a painful reminder that you were avoiding the one person who could make this all better. But he’ll know, you thought, he’ll see how weak I am, how fragile this all really is.
With a deep, shaky breath, you answered.
“Hello?”
There was a pause. A soft, hesitant exhale from his side. “Hey. I… I’ve been trying to reach you. What’s going on? You’ve been distant, and I’m—” His voice wavered, the worry clear even through the brief exchange. “You okay?”
You swallowed, but the lump in your throat refused to go down. “I’m fine,” you lied, your voice cracking at the seams. “Just… been busy. Lots of stuff to catch up on.”
Another silence. This time, it wasn’t filled with the usual comfortable hum of him shifting in his seat. It felt different. Weighted.
“Baby, you know I love you right?” Jude asked quietly, as though he could hear the lie even through the distance. “You know you can talk to me—right?” His voice softened even more.
You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks, your hands shaking now, fingers pressing tightly to the screen. He knows. He had to.
“I just… I’m not feeling great. That’s all. I’ll be fine. Really.” You couldn’t look at the screen. You couldn’t face him.
"Sweetheart, isten to me," Jude said, his tone firm but gentle. "You're not going to lie to me, and you're certainly not going to avoid me." He paused. "If something's wrong, then you're going to tell me and we're going to get through it together." He was quiet for a second before he spoke again. "Now. Let's try this again. Are you okay?"
The tears were back now, hot and biting as they fell. “I can’t do this, Jude,” you whispered, trying to keep your voice steady even as the sobs started.
“Can’t do what?” Jude’s voice rose. His worry was palpable now. “What happened? Tell me.”
But you couldn’t tell him, couldn’t risk it. You weren’t sure you could even say the words out loud. What would he think of you then?
“Maybe this was a mistake, Jude. Maybe we should just stop.”
Another pause. “Stop what?”
“Us.” You had to swallow before you could continue. “I think it’s best if we stop.”
The words hung in the air like smoke, thick and suffocating. The weight of them, the finality, nearly crushed you. You stared at the screen, willing yourself to breathe, to not let the panic rise higher than it already had. Maybe this is better, you thought, but the thought felt hollow, empty, like you were lying to yourself.
Jude’s silence on the other end of the line felt like an eternity. It stretched out, each passing second pulling you deeper into your own spiraling thoughts, drowning in the fear that this was the end, that you'd finally done it. You’d ruined everything.
Finally, his voice cut through the tension, soft, almost broken. “Are you… are you serious right now?”
You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. “Yeah,” you whispered, “I’m serious.”
The phone trembled in your hand, as if it, too, was unsure of what to do next. It was as if the world had tilted, your stomach twisting in knots. You had never wanted this. Not really. But the fear, the shame, the constant feeling of inadequacy—it was too much. And maybe, just maybe, walking away from him would spare you from the pain of having him see who you really were, of letting him down.
“Baby,” Jude breathed, his voice thick with disbelief, “what happened? What’s going on in that head of yours?”
You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. You wanted to explain, wanted to tell him everything—the comments, the hurt, the way they ate away at you, leaving you raw. But you couldn’t. You couldn’t find the words. Not when you felt so small, so insignificant, like the version of you he deserved was locked behind a wall you couldn’t break down.
“You deserve better than me,” you finally choked out, your voice barely audible. The words tasted bitter on your tongue, but it felt like the only truth left. “I’m not good enough for you.” The tears fell faster now. You couldn’t stop them. You didn’t want to. The ache in your chest swelled, filling you until there was nothing left but the echoes of those cruel, cruel words. “They were right. I’m not good enough.”
For the first time in a long while, Jude’s response wasn’t immediate. But when it finally came, it felt like a gentle breeze against your flushed skin, soft and warm. “Is this about the articles? The ones from the gala?”
You didn’t respond. You didn’t have to.
“I see,” Jude said quietly, the words coming slow as he processed. “Well, let me tell you something.”
He paused as though collecting his thoughts, as if he needed to be sure of what he wanted to say. “First of all, there’s no one better than you. Not one.” His voice deepened with conviction. “Every person at that gala would’ve killed to be in my place that night. Every one of them wanted to be you, sweetheart.”
You wanted to laugh. To scoff. How could he say that? How could he even believe it? But a small voice in your head reminded you that Jude wasn't one to lie, that he had always been honest with you. It whispered that maybe, just maybe, he could be telling the truth. But you didn’t dare believe it. Not yet.
“And second,” Jude continued, “You have to be stupid to think for one moment that you're anything less than amazing.”
The words washed over you like a wave, gentle at first but growing, pulling you under before you could catch your breath. You felt the weight of them settle in your chest, and for a split second, the storm inside your head stilled.
But only for a moment.
“You think you're just some filler in my life?” Jude’s voice was quieter now, but there was a rawness to it, a crack that betrayed the calm exterior. “But I’m here to tell you—you’re not. You’re everything I want. And I’m not going anywhere.”
The finality in his voice, the quiet intensity, almost broke you. Everything I want.
How could he say that? How could he be so sure ?
You couldn't help it. The fear, the doubt, it all spilled out, the words a jumbled mess of tears and desperation. “But what if you realize I'm not the one? That you can do better ?” Your voice trembled as you spoke, but you couldn’t help it.
Jude was silent for a long time. You could almost feel the frustration that radiated from the other end of the call. You could feel him wanting to reach through and grab you. “Listen to me,” he said, his voice rough but gentle, “you are mine. That’s not going to change.”
“How can you be so sure?” The words came out of their own volition, as if your brain and your mouth were on different wavelengths. You wanted to take them back the moment you heard them, but it was too late.
“Because,” Jude murmured, his voice softening again, almost too gentle. “Because I love you, and that’s never going to change. I don’t care what they say about you. You’re my person. And I don’t want to lose you to the lies in your head.”
And there it was, the thing you’d been trying to run from—the thing you were terrified to hear. Love. The word felt so foreign, so big, and yet, in that moment, it felt like the only thing that could make everything right.
“I don’t want to lose you either,” you whispered, a single tear slipping down your cheek. It wasn’t from sadness anymore.
It was from something more vulnerable, something raw and tender that you hadn’t allowed yourself to feel in so long. The possibility of being loved, of being seen—not for how you measured up to anyone else, but for who you were.
“Then don’t push me away,” Jude said, a quiet plea in his voice. “Let me in, okay? Let me help you. Let me love you.”
You inhaled shakily, the walls in your chest crumbling just a little.
You wanted to say yes. You wanted to let him in, to trust him the way he trusted you.
But the fear that clung to you like a second skin, made it hard to even breathe, let alone surrender.
You thought you were protecting yourself by keeping him at arm's length, by pushing him away, but now, his words—his steady, unwavering belief in you—began to crack the walls you’d built around your heart.
“I don’t know how to stop being scared,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. The admission felt like an exhale you hadn’t realized you’d been holding for years.
Jude’s response was immediate, his voice tender and full of understanding. “You don’t have to stop being scared, love. You just have to let me be there with you through it.” His words were quiet but firm, something unbreakable. Loving. “You don’t have to do this alone. I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere.”
A small sob broke through you then, uncontrollable and raw.
The tightness in your chest, the constant ache, the never-ending flood of doubt—it all spilled out in that single moment, like the dam finally giving way to everything you had been holding back. You hadn’t realized how badly you needed to hear those words until now. How much you needed him to hold you through this mess inside your head.
“I’m sorry,” you choked out, your voice shaking. “I’m so sorry for pushing you away. For being so… so scared.”
Jude’s tone softened, his voice a balm to your raw nerves. “No need to apologize, babe. You don’t owe me an apology for feeling the way you do. Just… don’t shut me out again. Okay?”
You nodded, though you knew he couldn’t see you. The weight of his words hung in the air, pressing against the tightness in your chest, but for the first time in a long while, you allowed yourself to feel a flicker of hope.
The terror that had ruled your every step began to loosen its grip, if only a little, as Jude’s quiet insistence filled the spaces where your insecurities once roamed.
"Okay," you whispered, your voice trembling but steady. "Okay."
"Good. Now, can I come over? I want to see you. I miss you, baby." His voice was soft, like he was whispering a secret that only the two of you could know. His words made you feel safe, seen, loved.
"Yes." It felt like a sentencing. But one you would subject yourself to everday if it meant you would have him by your side.
“I’ll see you soon, then?” Jude asked, a hopeful edge to his voice.
“Yeah,” you said, feeling a slow, tentative smile tug at the corners of your lips. “Soon.”
*********
You were in your room when you heard the knock on the door. You stood, your heart quickening. It felt as though hours had passed since the call, but in reality, it had only been 20 minutes.
You opened the door slowly, and Jude was already there, his eyes locked on you as you stepped out into the hallway.
He moved first, his footsteps sure as he crossed the distance between you. He didn’t hesitate before he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close against his chest.
The hug was tight, almost fierce. “I missed you,” he whispered against your hair. His words were a little shaky, as if he’d been holding it in for so long.
You felt yourself melt against him, allowing yourself to be held for the first time since this had all started.
His arms were warm, safe, and for the first time in weeks, you felt like you could breathe again.
“I missed you, too,” you murmured into his neck.
You stood there for what felt like forever, the two of you holding onto each other like your lives depended on it. You felt him press a kiss against the top of your head. The touch was gentle, loving, and your eyes fell shut as you absorbed it, the warmth seeping into your chest.
Jude held you like he would never let you go. You didn’t want him to. You needed the safety he brought, the shelter of his arms.
Jude had never been your crutch before, but in this moment, you felt so helpless, so broken, that you weren’t sure you could stand without him.
He didn’t let go of you. Not once.
His hands stroked up and down your back, his lips pressing kisses along your hairline, his arms holding you close like he didn’t want you to go. The only sound was his breathing and your own heart pounding in your chest. You didn’t know what the future held, but in this moment you were content to just hold onto him and have him hold onto you.
You didn’t know how long you stayed like that, standing in the doorway of your room, but it felt like time had slowed down, just for the two of you.
You weren’t sure when you stopped holding back, when you finally allowed the tears to spill over. Maybe it was the feeling of his hands gently cradling your face, or maybe it was the quiet understanding in his eyes when you pulled away just enough to look at him.
Jude cupped your face in his hands, his thumb brushing away the tears you hadn’t even realized had fallen. His gaze was unwavering, full of love and something else—a quiet sadness, a longing to reach you, to help you see what he saw.
“You’re perfect,” he whispered, his voice low, almost a plea. “You’re beautiful and lovely and perfect just the way you are. You’re mine and I love you. You’re my beautiful girl, and you always will be.” He pressed a kiss against your forehead, the softness of his lips dragging across your skin. It was warm, gentle, comforting.
Jude lifted his head, his eyes locking on yours again. His fingers were still curled around your face, and he moved slowly, his lips tracing over your skin, the tip of his nose brushing against yours. He pressed a soft, sweet kiss against your lips, and you felt your heart flutter in your chest.
You couldn’t look away from him. His eyes were dark, his pupils blown wide as he stared at you, his expression full of emotion and need. Your heart tripped, stumbling as your own need swamped you.
He pressed another kiss to your lips, this one light, almost reverent. You shivered as his hands stroked over the back of your neck, his fingertips tracing along your shoulders and down your arms. He moved slowly, each touch a promise of love, of passion, of want.
You felt your legs tremble at his touch, and Jude was there immediately, his arms coming around you and holding you up. He pulled you against him again, his face buried in the crook of your neck.
“Let me show you,” he murmured against your skin. His hands moved over you, dragging up your back and back down, "Let me show you how beautiful you are." They dropped to your ass, his fingers curling around it as he pulled you into him, grinding slightly against you.
Your body reacted on instinct, arching into him. He groaned, the sound vibrating against your neck.
"Please, baby girl," he whispered, the words a prayer. "Please." He pressed kisses against your throat as you lifted your head to look at him. His eyes held yours, pupils blown with desire and need. "Please, let me show you what I see every time I see you."
You swallowed, your heart pounding in your ears as you stared back at him. You saw the truth in his eyes, and for the first time, you let yourself truly believe it. You were perfect to him, just the way you were.
You nodded, and a soft smile spread over his face before he dropped his head to kiss you again. This time, there was more passion in his kiss, more emotion. He kissed you like you were the only thing he wanted or needed. He kissed you until you couldn’t breathe, until you were trembling against him, your arms wrapped around him and your fingers tangled in his coily hair.
He pulled away, a breath of air between your lips. He was breathing hard, his eyes wide with the same need that burned in yours.
"Bedroom," he whispered, and you nodded.
He followed you to your room, closing the door behind him and pulling you into his arms again. The kiss you shared was longer, hotter, more intense as you reached between you and started to undo his belt.
"Wait, baby…Hold on."
You pulled back, your brows furrowed in confusion. "What?"
He smiled, his expression soft, loving, and he pushed a strand of hair behind your ear. "This is about you, baby, not me. I want to see you." He leaned in to kiss you again, soft and gentle, and you felt yourself melt under his hands.
He kissed you for little longer before pulling away again. He gently tugged on your hands, guiding you to the bed and pushing you down to sit on the edge.
He moved to his knees between your legs, spreading them as he went. The light from the window shone down on you, and he stared up at you for long moments, his eyes roaming over your face and neck. He touched you as if he was memorizing you—your skin, your eyes, your lips.
He leaned in and kissed the skin just beneath your collarbone, and your breath caught. You felt a shiver work over your skin as he kissed down to the top of your breasts.
"You're so fucking beautiful," he whispered against your cleavage, "Perfect, gorgeous…beautiful, beautiful girl." He trailed kisses across your chest, moving back up to kiss your lips again. "I love you so much, baby," he said between kisses, and then his mouth moved back down.
"Can I?" His fingers drifted over the top of your shirt and you nodded. He smiled softly, his lips moving over your skin. "Good girl," he breathed, and the sound of his voice was like a caress over your skin.
You watched, wide-eyed, as he undid the buttons of your shirt and slipped it off. The top of your bra was visible, and his hands drifted down to cup you through the fabric. He squeezed lightly, groaning when he felt your nipples harden through the fabric of your bra. You could feel his eyes on you, could see the heat in them.
"Look at you," he murmured, "So beautiful…" He moved to slide the straps down your arms, his mouth moving down your skin to kiss between your breasts, his tongue flicking out to taste you. Your hands found their way into his hair and you tugged him closer, sighing when he sucked one of your nipples between his lips. His tongue swirled over it through the fabric of your bra and your hips jerked.
His hand slid around to unhook your bra, and he looked up at you as he slipped it off. "Oh, baby…" He leaned down to kiss the side of your breast, his breath hot and full of promise. "God, you're perfect."
He kissed over your breasts, sucking your nipples into his mouth and swirling his tongue over them. You arched up under him, your head dropping back, and he moaned.
"Fuck, baby…" His hands slid down your sides to your jeans, and he popped the button. "These look good on you," he whispered, "but I want you naked." His hands moved to zip open your jeans, and you watched as he stripped you.
He stared down at you, a look of pure lust on his face. Your skin flushed at his perusal and you fought the urge to cover yourself.
He kissed over your stomach, his lips moving up to your chest and then to your mouth. "God, baby, you're beautiful," he breathed against your lips before kissing you again.
His hands found their way between your legs and he groaned when he felt how wet you were. His fingers rubbed over your clit through your panties, and you sighed. He leaned back to kiss your inner thigh, his lips pressing open mouthed kisses on your skin.
"All mine," he whispered as he dropped more kisses on your thigh. "Right, baby?" He kissed closer and closer to your pussy, his hands moving to the waistband of your panties. He hooked his fingers under the fabric and tugged them off.
"I'm all yours," you gasped as he pressed a kiss to the inside of your thigh. "All yours."
His hand moved between your legs, his finger circling your clit. "yeah, that's right" he breathed. A cry fell from your lips and you dropped your head back, arching up into him. His arms came around your thighs, holding you open as his mouth dropped down to kiss you.
You shuddered at the first touch of his mouth. His tongue was hot, wet, and perfect as it licked over your clit, flicking over the little bundle of nerves. You sighed, dropping your hands into his hair, and he groaned against you. His tongue pressed harder against you, circling faster and you could feel the pressure building inside you already.
"Jude," you gasped, "Oh, god…"
He growled against you, the vibrations of his voice making your legs quiver. He pulled back and you felt his breath on your wet pussy before his tongue was back on your clit.
"Please," you whispered, "Please, Jude…"
He licked faster, his tongue pressing harder against you. You could feel the building pressure rising higher and you gasped.
"Fuck," he muttered, his lips moving back to press kisses against your inner thighs. "Fuck, you taste so fucking good." His mouth dropped back down to your pussy and his tongue stabbed into you, and you felt the first wave of your orgasm roll through you.
You cried out, arching against his mouth as he licked through your orgasm. He didn't stop, his tongue moving over and around your clit, teasing you towards another.
You screamed as the second wave hit you, harder than the first. Your legs jerked, trembling under him. He held you open, his mouth moving over you. He licked and sucked, teasing you through your orgasm.
When you could finally breathe again, your legs trembling under you, he pulled back. He kissed your inner thighs again, smiling as you gasped and shivered under him.
He moved back to his knees, his hands still holding you open. "You're so fucking gorgeous," he said as he looked down at you. His hand moved down between your legs again, his fingers slipping inside you. He pumped slowly, his thumb moving over your clit, and you fell back with a gasp.
"Baby…" You tugged his hair gently, watching as he stared down at your pussy. His mouth dropped open and he groaned. "Such a tight little pussy," he panted, "All for me…" He leaned forward, his tongue dragging over your clit. His hand worked faster, pumping two fingers into you and he sucked your clit between his lips.
You screamed, your entire body shaking as you fell over the edge again. His name fell from your lips as his tongue licked and his fingers thrust into you, teasing the orgasm out of you.
You collapsed back onto the bed with a sigh, feeling boneless and sated. You smiled lazily at him, watching as he pulled his fingers from your pussy and brought them to his mouth.
"Fuck, you taste good," he murmured, sucking his fingers clean. "God, I need you, baby." He tugged his t-shirt off, dropping it on the floor beside your jeans. His eyes stayed on you as he unzipped his pants.
He pulled his boxers and jeans off in one go, kicking them off to join the rest of your clothes. You couldn't help but stare at him. His body was beautiful, all lean muscle and sharp edges. His cock jutted up from between his legs, hard and leaking for you. Your eyes were glued to it and you licked your lips.
Jude groaned and moved over you, his cock brushing against your thigh as he kissed you. You wrapped your arms around him, tugging him closer to you. He dropped his weight onto you, his hips grinding against you. You sighed into the kiss, your tongue tangling with his.
"You got condoms in here?" he mumbled against your lips, "Because I really, really want to fuck you right now."
You gasped, your mouth dropping open in pleasure. "Uh… Yeah?" You shook your head, clearing the lust-induced haze from your mind. "In my dresser…" You nodded towards the dresser and he got up, moving to it.
He came back to you, condom in hand and a smile on his face. "God," he groaned, "You're so sexy…" He tossed the condom on the bed beside you and leaned over you. "Spread your legs for me."
You nod shyly, spreading your legs wide. He dropped down between them, his mouth kissing your inner thighs. You shivered, sighing as he moved closer. His mouth dropped to your pussy, his tongue licking over you and his finger playing with your clit. He looked up at you, grinning as he watched your face.
"God, you're so sensitive," he muttered as you shivered and sighed under him. His tongue dragged over your pussy and he pressed a finger into you, groaning. "Fuck, I need to be inside you now."
He stood, towering over you with an intensity that made your breath hitch, his fingers working to tear the condom wrapper open. The sound was sharp, a deliberate break in the tension that hung thick in the air.
Your eyes drifted down, drawn to the sight of his cock—hard, proud, and already slick from his arousal. Your lips parted instinctively, tongue darting out to wet them as you watched him roll the condom down.
Every movement of his hand, every deliberate stroke as he adjusted it, felt like a tease meant solely for your eyes.
He let out a low growl, almost inaudible, as he gave himself one last firm stroke. His gaze locked with yours, dark and full of need, before he shifted forward, positioning himself between your legs.
His hands found your thighs, fingers digging into your soft skin as he spread you wider beneath him. You gasped softly at the sensation, a shiver of anticipation rushing through you when you felt the blunt heat of him pressing against your entrance.
“Jude…” you murmured, his name a breathless plea that you couldn’t hold back.
His head dipped lower, his lips brushing your ear as he let out a strained groan. “You ready for me, baby?” he asked, his voice rough, thick with the effort it took to hold himself back.
You nodded, your chest heaving as your heart pounded like a drumbeat. “Yeah,” you whispered, your voice shaky but sure. “I’m ready.”
His lips curled into a mischievous grin, though his eyes burned with intensity. “Good,” he rasped, his tone laced with both promise and intent. “Now I’m gonna show you just how much I love you—since words don’t seem to be enough for you.” His grin widened, cocky and devastatingly sexy, as his hands slid beneath your thighs. With a fluid, effortless motion, he lifted you, pulling your hips up to meet him.
You gasped again, louder this time, as he pressed forward. The first inch of him slid inside, the stretch slow and deliberate. He groaned low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your skin. “Oh, fuck,” he hissed, pausing for a moment to savor the sensation. “Your tight little pussy is gonna squeeze the cum right outta me…”
Your head fell back, eyes fluttering shut as you adjusted to him, the delicious burn and fullness making you shiver. Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, pulling him deeper, urging him on. “Jude,” you sighed, his name rolling off your tongue like a prayer, filled with pleasure and longing.
He growled at your response, his hips rocking forward slowly, inch by inch, until he was fully seated inside you. His forehead rested against yours for a moment, his breaths coming out in ragged bursts. “Fuck, yeah,” he groaned, his voice heavy with satisfaction. He began to move, his hips grinding in a slow, deliberate rhythm. “Goddamn, your pussy feels so good…”
Your nails dug into his shoulders, the pleasure blooming between your legs as his cock filled you perfectly. Every thrust sent a shockwave of heat through your body, leaving you gasping and moaning beneath him.
It was like nothing you’d ever experienced before—your soul, your body, every part of you was being worshipped and driven higher with each stroke.
His lips traced over your neck, his teeth raking over your skin and sending shivers down your spine. His hands clutched you tighter, holding you firm against him as his body began to move faster. His thrusts lost their slow, deliberate rhythm, his need and hunger taking hold.
“Fuck, baby…” His voice was almost a growl, the words slipping through his lips on gasps of air. “So fucking perfect…” You felt your walls clamp down around him and he groaned louder, his hips slamming into you harder and faster. “Oh god, baby,” he moaned, “Oh fuck, yes…” His hands slid under your ass, tugging you up into his thrusts and sending his cock deeper inside you. “God, fuck, you’re gonna make me come so hard…”
You nodded, unable to form words with the pleasure overwhelming you, but you knew. You felt it too, the heat and pressure building inside you like a storm.
His hips snapped forward faster, pounding into you with a brutal intensity that had your legs shaking and your body trembling. His moans and gasps matched yours, his head dropping to rest against your shoulder as he fucked you.
"Jude…" you gasped his name, your voice trembling and barely audible as the first wave of pleasure surged through your body. Your nails raked across his back, leaving faint trails as if you were desperately trying to ground yourself in the overwhelming sensation. Your thighs quivered uncontrollably around his hips, your breaths coming in shallow, broken sobs. “Oh… oh God…”
“Fuck,” he growled, his voice rough and ragged, dripping with unrestrained desire. “Fuck yeah, baby…” His thrusts grew more forceful, more insistent, driving you higher and higher until your body felt like it might shatter from the intensity.
His hand slid between your bodies with practiced precision, his thumb finding the swollen bundle of nerves that sent shockwaves of pleasure tearing through you.
When he flicked over your clit, you cried out, your voice raw and filled with pure ecstasy. The sensation raced through you like a bolt of lightning, electrifying every inch of your skin and leaving you utterly undone.
“Oh fuck,” he groaned, his lips brushing against your ear as his hips pounded into you relentlessly. “I can feel your pussy squeezing my cock… Jesus, you’re so fucking tight… so perfect… oh fuck…”
His rhythm becoming harder, faster, and more erratic as he teetered on the edge. His muscles tightened beneath you, every sinew in his body straining as he chased his release. The throbbing of his cock deep inside you was almost enough to push you over the edge again, and you whimpered, your body still convulsing with the aftershocks of your own climax.
“Fuck, baby,” he growled, his voice hoarse and guttural as he surrendered too. His thrusts faltered, each movement now slower but no less intense as he came, filling you with a warmth that made your breath hitch. “Oh… fuck…”
Jude’s weight pressed against you as he collapsed, his body heavy yet comforting as his arms enveloped you. He held you close, his chest rising and falling against yours as his cock pulsed one final time within you.
Your head fell back against the soft pillows, your lips parting as you fought to catch your breath. The room now filled with the warm, intimate haze of the moment, charged with the aftermath of passion. Your heart raced as a satisfied smile ghosted across your lips, your mind a swirling storm of euphoria and peace. Every inch of you felt alive, buzzing with the warmth of his touch.
He nestled his face into the crook of your neck, his breath warm and steady against your skin as he pressed a trail of soft, lingering kisses. The tenderness of his lips sent shivers down your spine.
“I love you, baby,” he murmured, his voice low and thick with emotion, the words slipping out like a sacred vow against your ear. His fingers lightly traced circles on your hip, grounding you. “I love you so goddamn much.”
A lump formed in your throat, your heart swelling at his words. No matter how many times he told you, you would never get used to hearing those words. “I love you too,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you turned your head to meet his gaze. You reached up to press a soft kiss to his forehead, the gesture tender and intimate, a silent reassurance of your feelings. “Thank you for coming over…”
His lips curved into a smile, soft but full of affection. “Anytime, baby,” he promised without hesitation, his voice steady, sincere. “I’ll always be there for you.” The words weren’t just said—they were a declaration, a vow.
He rolled away reluctantly, leaving the warmth of your embrace to take care of the practicalities, disposing of the condom before returning with a warm, damp cloth. His movements were gentle, careful, as he cleaned you up, his touch never wavering in its tenderness. When he was done, he slid back into bed, pulling the covers over both of you as he gathered you into his arms, holding you close like you were the most precious thing in the world.
You nestled against him, pressing a lingering kiss to his chest before looking up at him with a small, content smile. “I feel better now,” you murmured, your voice soft and light, carrying an undertone of relief.
A chuckle rumbled through his chest, and he pressed a kiss to your forehead, his lips warm and reassuring. “Good,” he whispered, his tone gentle and full of love. “Love you, baby.”
“Love you too,” you replied, snuggling deeper into his embrace as you let your eyes drift shut. His arms wrapped securely around you, his warmth seeping into your skin and calming every frayed nerve. For the first time in a while, you felt truly at peace, safe in the knowledge that he cared for you in a way no one else ever had.
The way he held you, the way he whispered those words, left no room for doubt.
To him, you were perfect—flaws and all—and in his arms, you began to believe it too. You knew, with unshakable certainty, that he would always be there, the love you deserved.
As your breathing slowed and sleep began to claim you, you felt him tighten his hold ever so slightly, a soft hum of contentment escaping his lips. His chin rested lightly on the top of your head, and you heard the faintest whisper as his voice broke through the quiet stillness.
“I’m so lucky to have you…”
Your lips tipped up into a soft smile. You were so lucky to have him too.
-Bianca🌻
264 notes · View notes
whaqat · 5 months ago
Text
ermm
Curtis brothers headcanons
and then I’ll do the rest of the gang
- Soda and Pony pretend to have inside jokes to piss Darry off. Darry does actually get annoyed since they keep saying it over and over so he starts interrogating them about it.
^^ ponyboy manages to create a fake ass scenario each time. It scares Sodapop sometimes.
- everyone likes to say soda would be a red flag magnet and I second that. “Pony, she’s literally the one she said we were like Harley Quinn and joker.” “… soda, I don’t think you get how bad that is.”
- pre-book they would all go to a random river to skip rocks. Darry would always “accidentally” throw it 300 feet across and pretend he was trying to skip it and it was like the coolest thing ever to pony and soda.
- soda loves sweet stuff, pony loves sour stuff, and Darry loves salty stuff.
^^ to the extreme though. You will absolutely find ponyboy at 2AM fucking up a lemon.
- Soda and Darry saved to buy ponyboy a camera and better art supplies for his birthday. he cried.
- having “the talk” with pony was very very awkward. he already knew most of the stuff because he hangs out with people like two-bit and dally, but he found it funny so he kept pretending to be confused.
- (modern) darry would love Life360
D:“pony, you said you were going to the movies, why are you across town.”
D:“Hello????”
P: “mb I saw a butterfly.”
D: “for three miles??”
- all a little pyromaniac-ish. Weekend bonfires go weeeeeee
- pony was a little snitch as a kid and he didn’t know it most of the time.
- soda and pony both wander off constantly. Darry has considered getting kid leashes multiple times. (A day)
-soda hated how much they argued so he kept trying to arrange stuff that they did in their childhood when Darry wasn’t working but it’d just end up a mess and soda would just feel worse.
- (modern) Darry understands slang, but he doesn’t like it being used in the house because “Ponyboy won’t get far with that talk” and he thinks it’ll make him seem illiterate like the rest of them. So when they’re fighting, it’ll go quiet and pony’ll say some stupid shit like “what the skibidi” and Darry would slam his hands onto the counter.
505 notes · View notes
1980shorrorfilm · 2 months ago
Text
pain breaks the rhythm
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
click here. resources for palestine, congo, sudan, and other countries.
pairing…ellie williams x gn!vampire!reader
in which…ellie wants you to bite her out of curiosity. or something more.
before you read…18+. no smut; vampirism is just sexual. blood drinking.
nirvana plays lowly in ellie’s dorm, her warm fairy lights mixed with orange halloween ones, on the verge of falling due to how lazily she placed them.
they cast a warm glow in the small space, and over the few scattered books on her bed. they lay in between you, along with some notes, both of you sitting in silence as your brains are completely fried from studying at this point.
ellie hasn’t even spoken in five minutes, and knowing her, that means her mind is either empty or on overdrive. she keeps looking at you, as you keep looking at your phone, awaiting a message from whatever girl replies first.
your appetite is growing by the minute, and you can feel it. it causes your head to hurt, and your fingers to fidget, tapping them on your thigh as you attempt to focus on the opened textbook before you.
your little secret wasn’t a secret to ellie. you had trusted her with it, because you trust her with your entire life. she had found the whole thing fascinating, like something out of the many comic books she grew up reading.
except, this is reality, and it’s not as pretty as those colorful pages make it out to be. you’re not a murderer, you don’t have it in you. you’ll stalk the alleys of jackson for rats when desperate, and butter up pretty girls who think your bite is just that— a bite.
a painful yet sensational feeling that makes them want more, and why you rely on them in moments like these.
and for some reason, none of them want to fucking reply to you tonight. it feels like torture, and ellie almost feels bad watching you grow anxious— but she also doesn’t. you and another girl…it makes her want to throw up.
she’s not caught up with her lore, but a kiss from a vampire is equivalent to a proposal to her. and no one, other than her, deserves that from you. she tugs at her bottom lip with her teeth, heart jumping out of its chest when she finally speaks, “i’m curious.”
“hm?” you hum, glancing at your phone again, going over your irrelevant notifications to see if you missed anything. “what it feels like…you know…”
you look up at her, “what?”
“a bite…what it feels like,” she says shamefully; as if she’s admitting the most taboo thing ever. maybe because she had imagined it, seeing you at a corner of a party, head snuggled comfortably in a blonde woman’s neck, everyone else distracted by the blaring music and bumping bodies while she was stunned like a deer in headlights.
how she wasn’t disturbed, she was so far from. she thought about it being her, and letting you take what you wanted, not just what you needed. she could be your personal buffet, she would do that for you in a heartbeat. ellie could satisfy you. no one else, just her.
but, you laugh at her words, as if she told you a joke. ellie did have a habit of shitty vampire jokes and puns, often made in group settings because she thinks it is hilarious to have such an inside joke. she grabs your complete attention, “i’m serious.”
the smile you wore, leaves your face, understanding what she was trying to imply without asking. something off the table, absolutely forbidden.
“no…no, ellie,” you tell her, the rejection like a stake to the heart. there was absolutely nothing more in this universe you’d want more than to taste her, just the idea of it makes your heart beat even faster, shaking your head as though it would rid the enticing picture. you’re hungry enough as is.
“why?”
“because ellie.”
“you can do it to anyone else but not me?”
her question is more of a salty remark, causing you to glare at her, ellie now quickly swallowing whatever other comment she already had prepared. she doesn’t get it, she really doesn’t, and you cannot explain it to her.
how drinking from other people is a necessity, like eating food to her. how you have absolutely no emotional attachment to them, and you don’t crave any more than you’re given.
and with her, someone you love deeply, you could drain her completely. which isn’t an overstatement. you’ve watched the blood run along her veins on more than one occasion, how thick and sweet it is.
you can taste it on your tongue without having a single drop if it…how good it would taste running down your throat. you would get drunk off of her.
“it’s not that simple…you’re…you,” you scratch the back of your neck, confusion crossing her pretty features at the statement. “i’m me?”
“yeah…god, ellie, can we drop it?”
you don’t mean to sound so frustrated, but you are. ellie isn’t aware of the weight of her words, how her desire isn’t just hers. you share it, you want her. you want to quite literally devour her.
your phone vibrates, ellie trying to read the notification, someone asking to meet up with a stupid wink face. a sigh leaves her lips, sinking into her bed, redirecting her gaze to the book in her lap.
“see you tomorrow?” she quietly says, assuming you’re ready to go have dinner. and you should, you know you should, but you remain seated on her bed.
“it’s…hard…when it’s someone close to you,” you try to explain, “and i could hurt you.”
she’s sat up straight again, green eyes boring into you. “could isn’t a for sure thing,” ellie says, “i could get hit by a car tomorrow.”
“that’s not— you don’t get it.”
“i do,” she groans, tossing her head back, huffing, then looking back at you, “…i…trust you.”
the contemplation rests on your face, ellie noticing, her determination still adamant. she reaches for your hand, grabs it, and faintly leans forward.
“you wouldn’t let anything bad happen to me.”
the cool air thickens with tension as you consider her request, listening to how hard her heartbeat thuds. it compels you, along with the unwavering gaze of her green irises, luring you into her. she adds, “it’ll be a win-win.”
ellie is right. you think you could attack the first person you’d see when you leave her room, suck them until the light leaves their eyes— mouth salivating thinking about it. you’re practically starving, or so feel that way, and ellie could easily relieve you.
“okay.”
you expect a shit-eating grin on her face, the mischief glint in her eyes whenever you give her what she wants. and this was practically giving her the greatest gift on earth, yet her mouth drops ajar and she looks shocked, even nervous.
“really?”
“yeah…if that’s what you want.”
“yeah— yeah,” she responds almost too quickly, but she has already shown her desperation for you.
you push away everything in between you two, getting close enough to where you’re nearly in her lap.
“it’ll hurt.”
“i can take it.”
you watch the low spoken words leave her mouth, the suggestive tone combined with her hand squeezing yours, abruptly taking the air from you. for a moment, you find yourself more attracted to her lips, than her neck.
a very brief moment, because you’re swiftly distracted by the pumping of her jugular, the veins screaming at you.
you steady yourself, “ready?”
ellie nods, and with that, she lets your gentle hand cradle one side of her jaw, tilting it upward. her breathing hitches while you move in closer, fangs grazing the soft skin of her neck.
the heat radiating from her pulse sends shivers throughout your entire body, carnal desire growing stronger each millisecond that passes. along came restraint, slowly sinking your canine teeth in the side of her neck, afraid of actually hurting her.
she gasps immediately, guilt hitting you at the noise. maybe you should pull back. maybe you should stop, and apologize to her for even agreeing to this.
but the moment her smooth blood runs down your tongue, your delicate pressure turns into something feverish, electrifying. you crave more.
you bite harder, sucking the crimson from her body with your eyes fluttering to the back of your head, your worries about the ordeal fading into oblivion. ellie tastes even better than your fantasies, like the ripest fruit in the orchard, so fucking rich.
she is unlike anyone else— you mean that in every way, but the taste of her might just drive you mad. the way her blood rushes into your lungs, she fills you up just right.
when she whimpers, you moan, continuing to feast on her, the warm liquid is like ecstasy. ellie is gripping the sheets beneath her, the pain she feels is euphoric. addicting. damn perfect.
you’re driving her to an edge she’s never been before, in between life and death, a high that makes her body feel lightweight and her mind empty. the only thing she can think about is you, and your fangs inside of her, her life being in your hands as she gives you life.
for ellie, it is the best feeling in the fucking world.
she truthfully believes you could gnaw on her flesh until it was raw, and she would welcome the burning sensation with wide open, and loving, arms. she falls back, onto her pillows, your lips not leaving her for a single second.
“fu…” ellie murmurs, unable to finish the word, mind suddenly blanking.
on top of her, you can feel ellie shuddering beneath you; this is it.
for a moment, everything fades away. her warmth, her pulse, and the world surrounding you. you listen to her whimper once more, the color leaving all of her features, going pale.
your indulgence comes to an end, divorcing yourself from the crook of her neck, scanning her face out of worry you had gone too far.
she’s exhausted, breathless, fluttering her eyes at you. her pupils are blown, looking at you with pure admiration, as if you’re an angel hovering before her. then, she smiles faintly at you. and how beautiful she looks so drained underneath you.
you bring a hand to her face, thumb stroking her freckled cheek gently, “still with me?”
“mhm,” she hums, and you give her a moment to collect herself. you await for her heart rate to return to normal, for her temperature to rise, hand traveling down to her neck in the meantime.
softly, you touch the puncture wound, a strange feeling of pride at the mark. not wanting to heal it, and not wanting ellie to cover it up. it’ll remain a happy reminder of tonight.
when ellie’s pupils are no longer fuzzy, she takes in the view before her, her blood coating your face, on your mouth, on your chin. sinful thoughts run through her head, it makes her feel wrong— perverse —but with how tantalizing you look, she doesn’t care.
ellie almost wants to take a polaroid, and keep it locked away safely in her underwear drawer, afraid this won’t happen again.
she reaches for your face, thumb swiping the stray trail of crimson on your chin. you think she’s cleaning herself off of you, but she has different intentions.
after experiencing such an intimate moment with you, ellie feels bold, and she keeps it going, daring to brush her thumb against your lips— giving you a very clear signal, and order.
one that you accept, mouth opening slightly. her finger slips in, and your tongue curls around it.
ellie’s teeth dig into her bottom lip while you suck the blood off of her thumb, your eyes shut in bliss at the mere taste of her. you wouldn’t waste a single drop.
ellie is hypnotized by you, by the way you bring your hands to her forearm, holding her tightly in place until you are finished. and when you are, you glance back down at her, noticing how flustered she is by the pink hues of her cheek.
you can’t help but laugh, and she gulps, realizing she’s been caught in her trance. it’s cute.
the sudden confidence she had is now fleeting as you crawl off of her, ellie searching for the right thing to say. unfortunately for her, the only words that want to come out are ‘i love you,’ as if you had just taken her fucking virginity.
she decides to keep her mouth shut, lying there dazed.
ellie would happily die to you, if this was the death you’d give her.
382 notes · View notes
meanbossart · 5 days ago
Text
ASK COMPILATION: BODY HAIR, BHAALIST DU DROW, BLOOD INQUIRIES, THE MAN'S DICK AND HOBBIES.
Answering more asks! As always, I want to apologize for not being able to get to everyone - literally nobody has ever complained about it, but I still feel bad 😅I appreciate everyone's questions and sweet messages all the same, and even if your ask isn't here I hope you can be entertained by the other replies!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Anon I feel terrible about having to say this because I can tell you were hoping for a specific answer here, plus doing your very best to sell your pitch to me -
But DU drow hates body hair.
I'm not making this up in the spot just to be a contrarian, this is one of various unimportant character details that have come up already at some point or another, for whatever reason. It is no coincidence that many of the characters he finds unattractive do have visible body hair, like Gale and Halsin whose hairy toes he dreads the sight of.
I refuse to believe that elves are truly dolphin-smooth as that would be an absolute biological nightmare, so both him and Astarion have a normal amount of peach-fuzz all over. Otherwise, DU drow finds the sight of anything longer/coarser than that unseemly, and the feeling unpleasant; it is simply what he grew up with and hence what he's used to. In this respect, he wants people who take after his own image.
As with most things, he could forgive it if he were in love with someone - assuming you don't mind the occasional joke about it. And unfortunately I think something as significant as Halsin's case would be too off-putting for him to ever give them a chance. A Shadowheart situation, on the other hand, he could grow to like.
Tumblr media
I believe there's some sources that imply bhaal-corrupted(?) blood should taste a particular way, leaning towards the unpleasant. People can make up whatever headcanons they want with that information, BUT since I spent over half of this game supplying the guy with the stuff and he seemed all too pleased about it, I choose to assume it's not that bad.
I think there would be something... Lively about it? Fairly normal taste but it leaves a tingle on his tongue, like it squirms on its way out and dies in his mouth moments before it can hit the throat. Very salty, but it could just be his skin.
[FAR, FAR MORE UNDER THE CUT]
Tumblr media
Bhaalist DU drow likes both cats and dogs just fine (again, he considers the animal kingdom to be it's own thing and hence removed from his fate to butcher humanity) and you wouldn't be wrong to assume he has a thing for dogs in that AU because of their unconditionally loving and loyal nature, however Bhaalist DU drow is still very much a cat person. He likes their independence, their little attitudes, their self-sufficiency, plus the fact that they keep the rat population in check inside the temple. He finds those qualities admirable, respectable, perhaps he would even find them desirable in a partner if, unlike he cats, he wasn't so opposed to them roaming free.
Tumblr media
In-game DU drow succeeded the check required to spot Astarion before he could jump him - so yes, just not the version where they end up rolling awkward around the sand for 2 minutes, LOL.
Tumblr media
He's semi aware of it, or at least he becomes aware whenever Astarion's mask slips. When Astarion is putting on a good performance, DU drow wholeheartedly believes it. Also, It's worth noting that Astarion does manage to have fun occasionally, and have periods of... Superficial happiness? They just so happen to be unfulfilling, and don't make up for all the other pitfalls of his situation when they inevitably come crashing back. He's also great at tricking himself into thinking this is a good time.
Bhaalist DU drow makes vague attempts at "making things better" whenever he catches him in a mood, usually through physical affection or lavish gifts. That works well enough the first year I think, before everything kind of loses its luster. After that, DU drow just gets it into his head that Astarion "doesn't understand what he must do to succeed and keep him safe".
Tumblr media
This is a VERY interesting observation and... Maybe? Especially early in the relationship, DU drow finds Astarion's quasi-predatorial behavior very attractive, but only AFTER he notices his vampirism. I think this outlook of the character contextualizes Astarion's condition in a way that he can immediately understand and simpathize with, even if DU drow doesn't know much about vampires themselves. Of course, this is specific to Astarion - he does not extend this grace to the rest of his kind.
I'll be thinking about this one!
Tumblr media
I don't know the video in question but from your description I think they would both be VERY confused, LOL.
Tumblr media
HMM, I think that might actually depend on a lot of things! Assuming the woman (or just the other partner) in the relationship isn't a drow, and exactly what KIND of devotion we're talking about (is the drow pro-active? Protective? Does he put his neck on the line for this relationship with pride? Does he seem strong and capable and like he doesn't rely on his partner?) he might see enough of himself in him that they could actually get along. This is similar to how DU drow immediately took a liking to Aylin even though she's this moon-goddess child and a supposed beacon of justice.
The quickest way to get on DU drow's good side is to be the idealized version of what he believes himself to be. Oh, and not get in his way.
If they're both drow it's kind of hopeless though, yeah LOL.
Tumblr media
Planning on it!!
Tumblr media
DU drow never slept with Haarlep! He only took his clothes off and then attacked him full in the nude.
...I'm not sure how to justify that in the lore, but it's exactly what I did and it's too funny to take it back, LOL
I think Astarion was just kind of baffled by what transpired until DU drow turned to while hopping around pulling his pants back on and asked if he enjoyed the show, then he remembered he just loves finding any excuse to take his clothes off.
Tumblr media
That's a lovely compliment, I definitely go for a very "organic" look so I genuinely appreciate it. Thank you!
Tumblr media
Thank you!!! A lot has actually been said about Gortash in my #enver gortash tag, if you'd like to get all the gritty details. Suffice to say that they had a very odd but significant friendship.
Tumblr media
DU drow is the kind of person who shoots awake as soon as the sun starts gracing the sky, but he tends to do whatever he has to do and then go back to bed right after, and stay there at least a bit past noon. He did this both in his bhaalist days and in Astarion's company, though the amount of time he spends asleep during the day definitely increases because of the vamp, especially over time!
Tumblr media
So, the urethra in a penis is located pretty much on the underside of the shaft, so the wound actually does not reach it! As far as functions go - peeing and ejaculating - it comes out of the tip's opening as normal. When he first caused the wound it probably did puncture the urethra, but that would have closed up over time. What you see is the injury many years after the fact, after all.
So the implications are pretty minor. Aesthetically, his foreskin hangs a bit weirdly when he's soft (like a tiny little penis curtain) and has more give than usual. Functionally, he has spots within the scarred up injury that are either numb or overly sensitive. Also, you can kind of see the dickhead notch through his underwear which is fun.
Otherwise, that is pretty much it! No worries about the nature of the question I've gotten worse, LOL. Thank you for your kind words as well!
Tumblr media
I think he used to write in his bhaalist days - very, very occasionally mind you - like if you scoured the temple you would find a dozen or so ripped up pieces of paper with little short poems on them, written in a very sharp and carefree hand. Anywhere from 3 to 10 lines per-poem, usually less than more. The sentences are descriptive of actions, never feelings or thoughts, but they don't ever seem literal.
Back in those days, he also went to the theater every other year.
Post-tadpole, he ends up dabbling in carpentry, leather-work, and enjoys listening for musical numbers taking place in taverns and inns to go to and watch. He eventually starts pulling Astarion into little slow dances when that happens. I think he might end up writing again someday, but not for many, many years.
248 notes · View notes
magnetic-rose · 3 months ago
Text
i made a post a while back about the peepaw jokes surrounding emmrich and got vague blogged about it by salty people because i was "ruining their fun," which whatever lol. but the jokes have now escalated to saying he has erectile dysfunction and like this is what i meant when i said people are unaccustomed to characters above the age of 30 existing in media they consume.
like, 50 year old men have pretty active sex lives. you could be 70 and have an active sex life but that's not the point. emmrich isn't some geriatric grandpa ready to keel over and have a heart attack during sex, and jokes about his penis not working because he's "sooooo old" aren't actually funny.
and in my OG post i was pretty gracious about people making these jokes but since y'all insist in being unfunny and corny lemme just spell it out for y'all: at some point y'all crossed over from harmless jokes to full out ageism and it's incredibly off-putting and ruining the vibes. you're not funny or creative for saying that a middle aged person is bad at sex.
318 notes · View notes
sunshinescribes · 1 year ago
Note
Hi! Can I request how law would react if his partner calls him baby or babe (any pet names) by accident in front of everyone? The crew doesn’t really know but they got a feeling they’re dating
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Baby
Pairing: Trafalgar Law x GN!Reader
Warning: Established Relationship, Heart Pirates shenanigans, Soft Law, Reader is stupid in love with Law (as we all are)
You swear you can hear color and see sound…or at least you feel like you can.
Pulling an all-nighter working on internal ship repairs seemed like such a good idea in theory. It felt like pure genius on your part, being able to avoid the headache of having to work around your unruly crewmates—or worse, having to stop completely.
You love them, you really do, but your fellow Heart Pirates are a rowdy bunch. You don’t entirely blame them, though. It’s difficult being stuck in the ocean’s depths for days on end, missing the blinding sun and salty sea air—you hunger for it just as much as anyone, but when denied, you’d at least like to make certain that the Polar Tang is able to get you all to your next destination in one piece.
All your hard work and good intentions, and yet you had failed to consider one pivotal component: how long it would take to complete your repairs. The hours had passed in the blink of an eye, and much to your surprise, your late-night work had spilled into the early morning hours.
 You wonder how Law does it. He spends nights nose-deep in medical texts or hunched over his desk, flipping between scrolls and maps with ease. The dark circles under his eyes are a clear sign that he doesn’t get nearly as much sleep as he needs, but he moves and thinks like a fully rested man. Even when you slip into his room in the late hours, mindful of making sure your crewmates don’t know where you run off to, you find Law at his desk, lost in that brilliant mind of his.
He makes it look good, but you aren’t so sure you can say the same. You trudge down the narrow halls of the Polar Tang like an undead creature—sluggish and half-alert.
But you’re so close. Nearly done with your work. All you need is just one final push, a little boost to keep you on the mend. You can already taste the creamy milk and rich espresso on your tongue, topped with a dribble of caramel, just for that additional burst of energy. Yes, that’s exactly what you need.
You feel like you could float into the mess hall if you weren’t so worn. You nearly stumble as you push your way inside, avoiding Bepo while he rushes to his seat with Shachi and Penguin in tow. The trio is already deep in an argument that you can’t quite make out but know isn’t even worth listening to. You swear those three share blood, even if Bepo isn’t human.
Ikkaku is already seated, protecting her plate from Hakugan, who still can’t seem to grasp the concept of keeping his grubby little hands out of other people's plates, no matter how many times Ikkaku or Jean Bart try to beat it into him.
Others slip in and out of the mess hall, exchanging a kind greeting or snide remark before shuffling to their stations.
You hear Law before you see him, his rich voice carrying through the crowded space as he calmly explains to Uni that the Polar Tang will have to make port soon. You can’t help but stare. Even in your hazy, sleep-deprived state, Law is still the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen.
Reliable as always, Uni nods before rushing to the control room. Law catches sight of you as you stagger towards the counter. His expression is flat, his lips pulled in a tight line, but you notice the softness in his eyes. No matter how convincing his scowl may be, his eyes are always so telling—the singular piece of his soul he can’t hide.
He shifts closer, leaving a respectable space so as not to draw attention to you two. “Good morning.”
You yawn the greeting back unceremoniously, and god, you swear you feel your heart stutter when you glimpse the smile he’s trying so hard to hide.
“Late night?”
Your response is a tired hum. A joke sits comfortably on your tongue, but you can’t compel yourself to say it. You need your morning boost before you fall face-flat on the floor. You glance up at the cupboard, too tired to struggle.
“Baby,” you call, your voice slightly slurred, “can you pass me a cup?"
Law reaches above you, finding the mug you always seem to gravitate to—it’s nearly in his hands before he stops suddenly.
He stands as still as a statue, and you know your confusion is evident. 
The sudden silence that falls over the room doesn’t help. You can’t make out the usual jokes and jabs shared at the tables. No clattering forks. No loud, obnoxious slurping.
Did you push yourself too far? Is this what sleep-deprivation psychosis feels like?
“…baby?” Penguin questions.
Oh.
Oh shit.
The voices come all at once. A shrill cry from Bepo. Shocked laughter from Jean Bart. Shachi and Penguin yell over each other, triumphantly claiming they knew it. The only person who seems wholly unaffected is Ikkaku, who shoots you a knowing grin before returning her attention to her plate.
You glance at Law, who glares at his crew as a multitude of questions are fired his way. Each inquiry is louder than the last, and voices begin to blend as your crewmates shout over each other, desperately trying to get to the bottom of your secret relationship.
Maybe it’s the sleep-deprived delirium that makes the situation funnier than it actually is, because you laugh. Inelegant and uncontrolled. You shoot Law an apologetic glance, attempting to look as guilty as you feel, but from the way your shoulders shake and your lip quivers, you know you look anything but.
You expect his signature scowl—the look that makes marines blood run cold—but you receive something far sweeter—that surprised, uncertain smile that makes Law look years younger. His irritation has a habit of fading when you laugh, as if your joy is contagious.
He ignores the cries of his crew, finally passing you your cup.
“Sorry,” you whisper, trying to sound regretful, but your voice sounds far too cherry, laced with laughter.
“Don’t be.” There’s a devious glint in his golden eyes, and you hear the tell-tale sound of his room being created before you even see the blue film that contains it. “You have to deal with them now.”
You swear you hear that snarky chuckle of his, but he’s gone too quick, replaced with a crumpled piece of paper. There’s a moment of silence, a temporary peace, before all eyes fall on you, and the questions spill forth once more.
Tumblr media
A/N: I WANT TO APOLOGIZE FOR TAKING SO LONG TO FINISH THIS REQUEST!! Despite that, I hope you enjoyed!
divider credit: cafekitsune
782 notes · View notes
baby-tini · 5 months ago
Note
Hellooo, may I ask for how Tokyo revengers guys would be with a Bimbo reader??? :)
you sure can :)
Ken Ryuguji-
He's so sweet to you, he gets things are hard for you too understand. So, he'll never tease you about anything, always helping you with whatever you need. He takes his time with you, going step-by-step with the things you don't understand. Now, he does get a little irritated with you, but he never yells or gets visibly irritated with you. Always telling you too take a break, so that he can calm down, but he is very encouraging with you, praising you for the things you do get right, rewarding all your correct questions. You want a kiss baby? You'll have too figure out how too tie your own shoes. I genuinely don't think Ken minds this though, with him being around Mikey for long and having too do a lot for him, he's frown too take on a more caring role for you. Always taking care of you, cooking you food, tying your shoes, brushing your hair, footing you bills, anything you need just ask him and he'll take care of it, but he does want you too learn at least some sort of independence.
Keisuke Baji-
He's a mix of nice and mean about it. He understands not being smart in certain... aspects, but he'll still make fun of you for it. When you do get genuinely upset about it, your nose all leaky and red. He'll pull you to his chest and kiss your head, apologising, stating that he was joking and that he didn't know it would make you cry. He's soft most of the time after that, rubbing his thumbs over your swollen, sticky cheeks as he presses soft kisses on your lips. While he does tone the teasing comments down a bit, he's the only one that can tease you. He will- and has, gotten pissed when people tease you, whether it be in a playful way or not, it doesn't matter. He had gotten into a fight with a guy that thought it would be funny too call you stupid when you couldn't figure out a simple question. He had beaten the man so bad, that he has too be rushed to the ER before he took you out and got you ice cream.
Sanzu Haruchiyo-
This sick fuck loves you a bimbo, he loves it more then anything. You're so stupid, so willing too do anything he asks, whenever he asks. He fully uses this to his advantage, through and through. His innocent little princess is so stupid, huh? All he has too do is say jump and you do, you don't even ask how high, you just do. He's constantly so mean to you, making you cry, even though you cry over the smallest things possible, he still makes the comments stick and hurt. He's so manipulative, whenever he wants too fuck you and you're just.. not in the mood, he plays the "if you loved me, you would" card, and it works, every single time, without fail. Whenever he feels like you're not sucking his cock good enough, he'll take things into his own hands and he'll shove your head down his cock, making you choke on it, before he laughs in your face, as you cough up his pre and there's fat, salty tears dripping down your cheeks.
245 notes · View notes
sugurufic · 10 months ago
Text
Two best friends in a room... (Gojo x F!Reader)
Summary: You and Gojo are stuck with each other one evening and Gojo decides to make a tiktok. You've got your own devious plan in your head.
Word Count: 1k
Content: fluff, Its a bit different from the other trends i've written… gojo tries this one on you instead, reader mentions she is bad at biology but likes math (self insert).
masterlist
Tumblr media
“Satoru, why do you only have sweets for snacks?” you complain, plopping down on his bed. “Don’t you ever crave something salty or sour or spicy?”
“Hey! Stop whining about my sweets in my dorm!” He pouts, half sitting up. “You should’ve gotten your own snacks instead.”
“Suguru and Shoko aren’t here yet,” You say, taking out your phone to text in the groupchat. “I’ll ask them to bring me something other than sweet.”
“Oh, Suguru is busy - Yaga sent him on a mission at the last moment.” Gojo complains. “Shoko is busy preparing for her med school entrance exam.”
“Oh, right! I had totally forgotten about that,” you say, thinking about Shoko. She didn’t really need to prepare this hard, but you figured she did it because she enjoys studying about the human body. She has the brains to do it, you dont - having always been more inclined toward maths than biology. “Shoko’s stronger than me because I had already given up on biology back in middle school.”
“That is good because you make an excellent sorcerer.” Gojo says, somehow the teasing is missing in his words. “People would have died if you became a doctor.” There he is.
“Oi! I wasn’t that bad.” You defend yourself.
“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” he shrugs.
“What do you want to do then, Satoru?” You ask.
“Let’s make a tiktok!” He sits up straight, reaching for his phone on the nightstand. “I have been wanting to do this for ages,”
“What?” you ask, not recalling any trend that you have come across recently. But that might be because you don’t use tiktok (A/N: not a lie, but i use ig reels so it's the same)
“It will be funnier if you don’t know,” the white haired man grins, looking at you from over his sunglasses. His bright blue eyes sparkle with mischief - which you’d have found adorable if you weren’t the target of his joke.
He sets his phone up, floating it in the air above the bed with his limitless. The mischief is not gone from his eyes, and he has ditched the glasses for now. You rarely get the chance to admire his pretty blue eyes - it’s for your own good, you think. His eyes are captivating.
The audio starts to play, and Satoru says the words with it, “two best friends in a room…” you recognize the audio, but force yourself to not give it away, a devious plan forming in your head on seeing his annoyingly endearing smirk. “...they might kiss,” he finishes, and you give him a shy smile, keeping up the innocent act.
“Yes we will,” you say with the audio, still keeping that innocent act with puppy eyes looking right into his pretty blue eyes.
“What?” the what he says times up with the audio, but the shock on his face is genuine.
“I said, yes we will,” you finally give up the innocent act and smirk, loving the red-faced Satoru, who looks like he is about to explode. You turn towards him, on your hands and knees as you lean into his space and he seems to be running on autopilot and leaning towards you, the red flush never leaving his face. The audio continues to play promiscuous girl, but you don’t pay much mind to it.
Just as your lips are about to touch, you look at Gojo - his pretty eyes closed and lips open expectantly, and you almost feel bad for what you are about to do to him. Keyword being almost. You have gotten a once in a lifetime opportunity to get the ultimate teasing rights over him - with the proof being recorded, and no matter how much you want to kiss him too, you steel your nerves to not laugh, and blow air into his ear instead. 
Your warm exhale into his pink ears has your best friend shivering with a shrill squeal, and the phone drops to the bed, still recording as Gojo loses all his focus.
“What the hell was that?!” He screams, voice still higher pitched.
“I was having a bit of fun,” you say, biting your lip to stop the laughter. “But you looked like you actually wanted to kiss me?”
“So what if I did?” He gets defensive and pouty. “You’re pretty and I like to hang out with you.”
“Is that so?” you tease, feeling warmth creep up your face. “Go on then,” you say, knowing well enough that you will regret this later, but you can’t not do it. “I’ll let you kiss me,”
If Satoru was blushing then, his blood vessels looked ready to combust when you said those words in that challenging tone. He was all but compliant, leaning towards you when you took charge and grabbed the collar of his white shirt, pushing yourself to him, your knees on the outside of his thighs and your lips pressed against his. His large hands fly to your hips, holding on to them as if his life depends on it and parting his lips eagerly to welcome your tongue.
Your heart thunders in your ears, disbelief at the fact that you are kissing your best friend, your very attractive best friend that people would give anything to get a chance with. One of you hands leaves his collar and rests against his warm cheek, caressing it gently as the kiss turns into a full make out session with you sitting on his lap and his hand reaching down to your ass.
When you separate, both of you are panting, heavy lidded eyes looking into one another, and Gojo finally breaks the silence with a breathy admission, “I don’t think I can ever stop wanting to kiss your sweet mouth, princess.”
“Then don’t stop,” you whisper back, resting your forehead on his.
“Be my girlfriend,” he asks.
“Be my boyfriend,” you say.
“Hey girlfriend,” he tests.
“Hey boyfriend,” you tease.
“Let's go on a date, girlfriend.” Gojo suggests. “I’ll let you have something other than sweet, babe.”
You giggle and nod, before taking his phone and sending the tiktok to yourself. Boyfriend or not, you can never pass up the opportunity to get blackmail material against him. He is an annoyance, but he is your annoyance now.
A/N: man i love bottom-coded gojo with my whole heart. also first time writing gojo i hope you like it <3
636 notes · View notes
lanawinterscigarettes · 10 months ago
Note
Headcanons for Jennifer Check with an autistic S/O?
I love this idea so much- I took inspiration from some of my own experiences so this might not apply to everyone but I certainly did my best! I really hope you like it <3
Jennifer Check with an autistic s/o
Warnings: brief mention of meltdowns/sensory overloads, references to ableism/ignorant people, very brief (somewhat) joking mention of committing murder (it's Jenny, what do you expect), very salty and blunt language that I'm honestly not even sorry for
Tumblr media Tumblr media
I honestly think Jennifer would appreciate dating an autistic person, especially if you're the type who's very straight forward or overly blunt about things
She probably thought you were a bit of a bitch at first I'm not gonna lie lol, but she makes that assumption about pretty much everyone when she first meets them
You'd seen each other around school before but your first real conversation was when you were paired up for some sort of science project. She was not looking or feeling like her typical hot and fabulous self, and while you weren't the first to notice you were the only one brave enough to point it out
"Have you been getting enough sleep recently? You have really heavy bags under your eyes"
Jennifer wanted to snap at you at first, thinking you were being sarcastic (because obviously she had bags under her eyes, she didn't need anyone pointing it out) but much to her surprise you didn't look like you were making fun of her. In fact, you seemed a little concerned
"Your hair looks pretty damaged." You continued, oblivious to the look of utter shock on her face that you would actually say something like that out loud. "If using both shampoo and conditioner is too much of a trouble I can recommend some two-in-one products. Or you can always use dry shampoo in between washes"
The woman was too stunned to speak. All she was able to do was mutter an awkward "thank you", something that you simply nodded your head at before turning the conversation back over to the project
She gained a lot of respect for you that day, as you were the only person who wasn't afraid to say what everyone was thinking (though she soon learned this was due to you not knowing what was and wasn't considered 'appropriate' to say)
Out of everyone, you're the one person Jennifer goes to (other than maybe Needy) when she needs an honest opinion on something because you won't lie to spare her feelings or try to flatter her
"Which tank top do you think I should wear to school tomorrow, the pink one or the black one?"
"Well, the pink one makes you look like slut. But the black one makes you look like both a slut and a bitch, too"
"Perfect. Black it is, then"
If you ever accidentally make a situation awkward or uncomfortable by your comments or questions you won't even have to worry about being embarrassed because she'll immediately come out with saying something so bitchy and/or vulgar that whatever you said looks innocent in comparison and is forgotten about right away
She'll get very protective if people try to purposely make you feel bad for the out of pocket things you say. After all, you're just telling people the truth, it's not their fault if they can't handle a dose of reality (her words, not mine)
Even though she loves to party she'll most likely either tone it down or just stop going altogether when she finds out you don't like them all that much because of the loud music, bright lights, small spaces crowded with lots of drunk people, etc. She'd rather be with you any way
Always lets you infodump to her about your newest interest or favorite thing, which truly shows just how much she loves you as she usually always has to be the one dominating any conversation she's a part of. Sometimes you wonder if she ever really listens until she gets you something relating to your latest hyperfixation and then you're like "ah okay so she does care :D"
Honestly she's such a trashy mcbling y2k girly (canon, she told me herself) that I feel like she's the type of person to buy you stim/fidget toys and then help you 'bling' them out by gluing on fake rhinestones and such because "you can't just walk around with boring accessories"
Is she the type of person to tease you/make a bunch of sex jokes if you have an oral fixation? Yes. Will she start carrying around lollipops, gum, chew rings, etc. in her purse to give to you when you're feeling distressed in a public place? Also yes
Totally understands if you don't like/can't eat certain foods due to pickiness, especially if this is after her demon possession. She goes out of her way to make sure the pantry is stocked with your safe foods and all your favorite snacks for whenever you come over so you won't run out of them
She may not be the best at comforting you if you're in the middle of a meltdown/sensory overload or if you start crying (especially if it's over something small) but she tries her best to be gentle, not wanting to accidentally make things worse. If you need physical comfort then she'll gladly let you wrap your arms around her and get as close as possible, but if not then she'll stay a safe distance away while trying to cheer you up with words of encouragement
Absolutely hates ableist people. Hates and will eat them /hj. She can't stand when people make you feel bad for not understanding certain phrases or not being able to pick up on social cues
If you're ever confused on something then she takes the time to explain it to you, and yes this includes her sarcasm. She can't stop being sarcastic for anyone, including you (sorry) but she can make accomadations so you don't feel stupid or left out
Jennifer finds your stimming so adorable, especially if you do it when you're excited to see her. The fact that you get so happy you have to make a physical show of it just to get the extra energy out warms her cold, otherwise unfeeling and bitchy heart
If you're a really physically affectionate person then she one hundred percent welcomes it and allows you to touch her at literally any given moment no matter where you are. If not, then that's all the more reason for her to feel special and loved if you ever do give her, say, a hug, especially if you have an aversion to touch
Speaking of which, if there are any clothes of hers that you don't like because the texture of it bothers you/makes your skin crawl then she simply won't wear them around you, and might even get rid of them so you can feel more comfortable touching her. This includes making sure her bed always has the coziest pillows and blankets and comfiest sheets for whenever you spend the night
Overall I think Jen would love you no matter what personality quirks you may have regarding being autistic, and she would never fail to tell you just how much she loves you for them
Tumblr media
Main masterlist | Jennifer's Body masterlist | wanna be added to my taglist?
Likes < reblogs | comments are greatly appreciated <3
🏷 taglist: @anxiously-sad @iloveentrapta @ghot-girl @taecube @corn3liiia @gilmore-angel @your-next-daydream @alexxavicry @noisy-dumb-piece-of-shit @lovelyy-moonlight @red1culous (if you were crossed out it means I couldn't tag you for some reason)
501 notes · View notes
suguae · 1 year ago
Text
"My doberman boy..."
Tumblr media Tumblr media
G. Suguru x f!reader.
-jus a short lil drabble :3
Tumblr media
Many people thought it was joke when they found out you and Suguru were a thing.
Suguru; covered in tattoos, piercings, smokes, mean and quiet.
Meanwhile you were the polar opposite.
Nails done differently every week, obviously with your boyfriends money. How could he say no? Always out, dragging Suguru along...even if he hated it.
Always getting the attention of men just by existing, until they see scary Geto walking behind you. Giving them looks that clearly said 'She's mine'.
"How did you even pull her?" Satoru always teases.
"fuck..." He mutters watching your head bob. That pretty mouth taking his dick so well. Lewd noises coming out of your mouth as he pushes your head deeper and deeper.
Your moans sending vibrations down Suguru's dick. "Love the way you take it so well baby..." Lifting your head up by your hair. Mouth drooling with saliva as you smiled at him.
"Fuck me..." You pant trying to catch your breath due to the lack of air.
"F..Faster sugu!" You whine as he had you bent over the kitchen counter. Sounds of his dick constantly sliding in and out of your pussy, his hips bucking into your fat ass.
He makes sure to play around with them because how could he not. That sexy tramp stamp with his name on it, he smirks every time he gives you back shots. You belonged to him and only him.
Your whiney moans taking over his ears while he thrust faster into you, "F..sugu am cummin~" He moans as he feels your warm liquid fill up your pussy.
"Sugu cum..inside me." He did not need to be told twice. You hated being on birth control so you rarely let him cum inside you. But tonight was definitely his lucky night.
"You don't know what you do to me y/n." You feel his semen spill inside your pussy. His dick had you down bad for him.
Now kneeling in front of him licking his tip like a kitten. Suguru cursing under his breath as you pump a little more. Another smaller load bust out onto your tongue.
"I love your dick..." you smile after swallowing his salty load.
"With this dick she loves so much" He smirked as satoru rolled his eyes.
Tumblr media
596 notes · View notes
firelilyfox · 9 months ago
Text
Choose Your Next Words Carefully
Tumblr media
Dune: Paul Atreides x female reader
Warnings: se&ual harassment (assault) / cursing / angst / blood
Words: 2k
Summary: Paul & you were childhood friends but suddenly he distanced from you. On a night full of celebration you get into trouble & Paul protects you … but what happened two years ago?
______________________
Caladan looked even more beautiful at night. 
You are watching the peaceful waves collapsing under the balcony you are standing on. Behind the whole castle is celebrating another victory against the Harkonnen. A soft breeze lets the fabric of your dress flow in the wind and you take a deep breath of the salty air. 
It wasn’t your wish to be here tonight, but your father insisted that you would watch him getting honored for his work for Duke Leto. And you did. But when the duke’s son joined the celebration, you had to get out of there as soon as possible. 
You and Paul Atreides had a very … complicated past. 
As long as you could remember you had a crush on him and he knew it all along. When the two of you were younger, you would play everyday and make mischief all around the castle. But suddenly you barley saw him once a week and Paul acted kinda cold around you. Once you wanted to talk to him about his weird behavior, he just laughed at you and made fun of you for having a crush on him. Everybody around could hear him laughing and began to pity you for being so naive. 
The daughter of a soldier would never be good enough for a future Duke. 
You never spoke to Paul again. This was two years ago, but every time you see him at big events, your heart tightens and you become overwhelmed with sadness and anger. How could he do something like that to you? Even if he never had felt the same for you as you did for him … friends don’t hurt each other like that. 
„What are you doing out here?“, a voice asked behind you. When you turned around you saw a man standing there, looking at you with a drunk smile. It was a friend of your father. A soldier, just like him. 
„Just catching some fresh air“, you said. 
The man comes closer to you, stumbling over his own feet. His wrinkly face showed many scars from battle in the past. „It is dangerous … for a young Lady … out here.“ 
He leans towards you, but you duck away from him. „Uh.. thanks for the heads up. I will go inside … where its safer.“ 
As you turn your back again, you can hear him mumbling something about find me later, but you don’t want to keep listening to this creepy guy.  
Quickly your feet carrying you inside the great hall, where most of the people are dancing and drinking. You couldn’t see your father anywhere because you are shorter than most of the men and women here. So you decide to get on one of the stone benches to get a better view from up there. 
„These things are meant to sit on, you know?“ 
Green eyes. A crooked grin. Freckles. 
„What do you know, Atreides? Shouldn’t your royal ass be sitting on a throne or something?“
Paul chuckles. „Sassy as always. Some things never change, hm?“ 
You rolled your eyes and went back to keep on looking for your father, so you could finally leave this goddamn party. That’s when Paul joined you on the bench. 
„What are we looking for?“, he asked amused. 
You’re frowning at him. „WE are not looking for anything. I am looking for my father. And YOU should leave me alone, Atreides.“ 
Paul looks confused. „Have you forgotten my first name? It’s Paul, you know?“ He smiled again and you catch yourself almost smiling at his dumb joke. But you manage to pull yourself together before that happens. It almost felt like when you were kids. 
„Fuck off, Paul.“ You jump from the bench and trying to make a way through the crowd of drunk, dancing people. Paul follows you. 
„You tell your future Duke to fuck off? Hah! You are as brave as I remember“, he says laughing. Before you could respond anything, Paul grabs your wrist and turns you around. His other hand holding your waist and you find yourself pressed against him. The high difference forces you to look up at him. 
„What are you doing?“, you stutter. 
A smirk appears on his face, as if he know how much impact his presence has on you. „I’m dancing with you. I mean we are on the dance floor.“ 
For a moment you let yourself enjoy the feeling of being so close to him. The pressure of his hand on your lower back, his chest moving against yours. Your fingers on his bicep. Hands holding each other. This was something you always dreamed about. Your heart begins to pound like crazy. His smile faded and his gaze softened. Now he looks at you like you are the only thing that is existent. Time moves slower. Noise faded. Only you and him. 
Paul leans his forehead against yours, closings his eyes and he takes a deep breath. The moment was intimate and all you wished for at some point … but it felt wrong. 
„What has gotten into you tonight?“ You pushed him away. A hurt expression crossed his face and you almost felt bad. „Two years, Paul. Two years and now this?“ 
Without waiting for a stupid response you took off and managed to find a way through the crowd out in the hallways. Tears filled your eyes, but you are to stubborn to let them run down your face, exposing your hurt feelings. 
Desperate for some privacy you opened a small door and find an empty room with sofas. The perfect hiding spot until you’ll be able to shove down your feelings again. 
„I see. The Lady found me.“ 
A high pinched scream escaped your throat as you were grabbed roughly by the shoulders and got pushed down on one of the sofas. Your head slammed against something hard and you feel warm blood running down your cheek. 
The man from the balcony holds you down with a big smile on his face. His gaze is hidden in shadows but you recognize him. 
„Let me go! My father will behead you with his own hands!“ You scream at him, trying to get away but against his heavy body you have no chance. 
He was not listening and even if he was, he seemed not to care. The man took one hand of your shoulder to grab you by the neck to choke you and the other hand loosened up his pants. 
„No. No please. No“, you beg for him to stop. 
„Not so bratty anymore, hm? I shall teach you a lesson you little slut! I will…“ 
But his words came to stop. Slowly you opened your eyes again, as his grip around your neck got loose again. You could see a knife at his throat, forcing him to stop and not move a muscle. The hand, that was holding the knife belonged to … Paul. 
He was standing behind the man. His eyes dark and full of rage. The knife scratching the skin and making the old man bleed a little bit. 
The old guy shouted in anger. „Whoever dares to interrupt me will be punished!“ 
Paul chuckled dangerously silent and forced the man to turn around to look at him. His eyes widened in shock. „My Lord“, he whispered. „I didn’t know that you own this whore … I mean I …“ 
„If I were you“, Paul interrupted him with a deadly glance. „I would choose my next words very carefully.“ 
Paul lays more pressure on the knife and it’s cutting deeper into his skin. The man began to whimper. Before the damage would be irreversible, Paul pushed him to the ground. 
„I won’t wash my hands in your blood.“ As if he had given a silent sign, two guards came in to drag the man outside. „These guys will handle that.“ 
You look at Pauls back. He was standing there like a true leader. Like the man he became. He was not a child anymore … and neither were you. 
As the door closes again he dropped the knife and turned around to you. Faster than lighting he got down on one knee to met your eyes at the same hight. His hands cupping your face and he wipes your tears away that mixed up with the blood. 
„Does it hurt badly?“, he asked with a soft voice. The contrast to his fearless and deadly side couldn’t be any bigger. 
You shake your head. „No it’s fine.“ 
„He will be beheaded in the morning. You don’t have to worry about seeing him ever again.“ Paul tries to calm you down. His eyes holding your own captured and you weren’t able to look away. 
„Thanks. I mean …“, you shake your head again getting rid of his hands. „I should go now.“ 
You stand up and opening the door. Paul is standing right behind you, pushing the door shut again. His hand were right next to your head but you refuse tu turn around right away. 
„Please let me explain“, he whispered. Paul was so close, that you could feel his breath on your skin. You sigh but still refuse to turn around to look at him. 
„There is nothing to explain. I know everything that I need to know.“ 
„You asked me what has gotten into me tonight.“ 
You stay silent. 
Paul sighted. „My father told me that I don’t have to be married to be the next Duke.“
Confusion brings you to look over your shoulder and met his sad green eyes. The honesty in them lets you turn around. „What does that have to do with me?“ 
He smiled but it looked so sad and broken. „Everything. I … i stayed away from you on purpose, y/n.“ 
„What do you mean?“ 
„The day you told me, that you … you had feelings for me, was the same day my father told me to that I have to marry Princess Irulan in the future. I was so mad at him because I already lost my heart to someone and I … but he said that it had to be this way.“ 
„So you let out your anger about your father out on me?“, you asked angrily. 
Paul shakes his head. „No. I just thought … if you would hate me … then it would be easier for me to stay away from you.“ 
Suddenly all fell right into place. His behavior on that day two years ago made much more sense … he was cold and distant but… 
You punched him on the arm. „That still don’t give you the permission to act like an asshole!“ 
Paul smiled and nodded apologetically. „You are right but I was young and not so smart like I thought I wished to be.“ 
A moment of silence fell over the two of you. Just the eyes spoke louder than a voice could ever manage to do. 
„So … you lost your heart to someone else than your reflection in the mirror?“, you joked. 
„God I missed your sassy mouth so much!“ Paul laughed and it was the first real laughter you heard from him for such a long time. „Yeah i did. Even if my reflection is pretty stunning … nothing compares to the girl that I lost my heart and soul to.“ 
Paul gently laid his hand on your cheek making sure you keep on looking into his eyes before  he kept on talking. „I always loved you, y/n. Of course I did! How could I not love you?“ 
Tears start to fill your eyes again … but this time for a good reason. 
„You are still an asshole for behaving like that, Atreides.“ 
His smile melted your heart away. „Will you forgive me?“ 
You nod. 
Paul slowly leans towards you and when his lips met yours, there where nothing else to say. 
351 notes · View notes
somewhat-insane · 11 months ago
Text
~Shadowpeach Headcanons (I'm Delusional)~
I did this because I was bored... so if you happen to like this... uh... feel free to suggest other things you would want to see headcanons for (I also take art and one-shot requests too -3- (pleaseee, I need ideassss))
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Neither of them bothers labeling their relationship (Macaque is more aware of identities and labels and identifies as bisexual. On the other hand, if you ask Wukong about his pronouns, he'll just stare at you silently before completely changing the subject.)
Wukong may be a jerk, but one thing he absolutely WON'T do is make fun of Macaque's art. (He was always happy when Macaque would express himself when they were younger and still has a similar mentality about it. Definitely would diss anyone else's art though.)
Both are subconsciously protective of the other's boundaries (Macaque steers clear of subjects that might trigger memories of Wukong's past, and Wukong makes sure others don't get too loud around Macaque (while still forgetting to check his own volume.) If you were to ask them, they'd say it's because they're the only ones who get to antagonize each other.)
Wukong is surprisingly good at dancing; Macaque is salty about it.
They fall asleep facing away from each other and then wake up cuddling
At first, they would stick around each other just to be annoying, but it slowly turned into them genuinely hanging out, and now they have regular "dates."
Macaque writes notes to remind Wukong of things when he can't be there to remind him himself, and Wukong doodles on them (and then forgets what he was supposed to do anyway)
Wukong likes to draw Macaque smiling (both genuine smiles and that bastard smile he does)
Macaque is surprisingly cuddly in the morning.
They are groggy after waking up, but sometimes Wukong will be up all night and super energetic when Mac wakes up.
Macaque constantly rearranges the furniture, and Wukong runs into stuff because he moves through rooms on muscle memory
Macaque tries flirting with Wukong, but it all goes over his head. Meanwhile, Wukong says things that fluster Macaque without even knowing it.
Macaque laughs so hard at Wukong that he snorts, and Wukong teases him for it.
They have so many inside jokes that their conversations have become incomprehensible to people who don't know them.
They don't like beds and will shove a bunch of blankets in a corner and curl up there if they can't sleep outside because it's raining.
They have serious talks late at night that they both pretend never happened in the morning.
Both of them get really excited about random things and will info dump on each other
Macaque is scared of his food/drinks being contaminated and won't eat/drink something that is out of his sight for too long; sometimes, he trusts Wukong to watch his food, and other times doesn't
Wukong loves eating peaches and playing in the dirt but hates the feeling of his skin being sticky or dirt under his claws; Macaque will grumble and huff but will eventually clean him up
They make weird noises at each other.
Wukong still doesn't understand tech and constantly has to ask Macaque for help. Macaque is more knowledgeable than Wukong but still has to ask MK for help helping Wukong sometimes.
Wukong doesn't save his drawings because he doesn't think they're that important, but Macaque always keeps them. The same can be said vice versa.
408 notes · View notes