#every time I look at him I start laughing uncontrollably. he's trying so hard to look pretty

[paintedcrows]

Just Yanking Your Chain, Buddy!

Some alt versions! I couldn't decide how far I wanted to go with rendering this

[beatrixst0nehill]

"Oh my God! I'm a genius! Guys.... look at me! Soooo..... I'm friends with like six trans girls at my college who were put on these hormones that gave them insane figures! Super curvy, big fat titties, huge assess. The girls all got pretty fat after a few years on the stuff but who cares? They looked fire af! Sooo.... I'm like, yo, where can I get the hook up on this stuff? And they gave me a doctor's name. All of them went to the same guy who gave this type of HRT to every trans girl he helped, allegedly a bit of a fan of seeing them fatten up and grow giant boobs. Who can blame him?

So I see him and I'm like... hey, I'm trans, my friends told me about you, can I get the hormones you gave them? He laughed, reaching over, squeezing my pussy. He told me he doesn't feel a cock getting rock hard in his hand like he normally does when a pretty girl walks into his office. I rolled my eyes and I'm like, 'OK, I'm cis. Whatever. Can you put me on the stuff or not?' He asked me if I was sure. I said 'yeah'. He had the biggest shit-eating-grin like he won a jackpot.

I left, and filled my script. That was only four months ago. Four fucking months. I am so goddamn horny all the time. My libido is through the roof. Allegedly I'm so fertile if I get knocked up I'll be carrying a damn children's choir in my belly. But the only people I'm fucking are my aforementioned trans friends, and their balls are pretty shriveled from the stuff. But we have plenty of fun. All of us getting so plump and curvy, with huge tits lactating uncontrollably. Mine started spraying like two months ago. It's actually crazy. We do eat a lot but this stuff is magic, the curves come out of thin air! I know my boobs are already gigantic and if I keep taking this stuff I'll need a wheelbarrow just to go to class, but who cares? I look amazing! Anyone wanna try this stuff and I'll DM you the doctor's name! Just don't come crying to me if you're 300lbs with titties like watermelons in five or six months!"

[justwinginglife]

The Unwitting Confession

Inspired by my bestie @ectopodl3, thanks for always matching my freak, love ya!

It had been roughly 6 months since Soshiro Hoshina joined the Third Division as its Vice Captain and it was an eventful 6 months to say the least. Everyone had been clambering over each other to get a good look at the new Vice Captain and even now they were still on the fence about what they saw. The poor guy had to fight twice as hard as anyone else to prove he deserved the spot and some people still required more evidence from him. For 6 long months, he took on whatever grueling task he could get his hands on to show the world that he was more than capable to lead a division. And for 6 long months, you were right there in the trenches beside him.

You had been both Captain Ashiro's favorite platoon leader and close personal friend for awhile now, so when she had made the decision to invite Hoshina to the Third Division, you fully supported it (in fact, you were the only one who supported it). Because of this, she relied heavily on you to help him transition into his new role.

You made quite the impression on him from day one. You knew everyone else would be skeptical of him and Mina was counting on you to make him feel comfortable, so you went a little overboard in welcoming him. That day, he arrived at his new office to find his desk covered in all manner of drinks- coffee, juice, milk, water, smoothie, soda. You had just placed the final can on his desk when he came in looking quite shocked. You rubbed the back of your head sheepishly. "Well this is certainly one way to meet you Vice Captain," you laughed. "I couldn't figure out what kind of drink you liked so I bought them all." You gestured to the gifts you'd laid out for him.

You thought he would just keep staring at you all day like some strange circus attraction but then to your surprise, he started laughing uncontrollably. His eyes filled with tears and he even had to steady a hand on the doorframe to keep himself from toppling over from the sheer exertion of laughing so hard. "You better help me finish all of this." He said, finally catching his breath, "Hey- what's your name anyway?"

So, despite Mina having drawn up an entire itinerary she had wanted you to follow on his first day (give him a tour, introduce him to the other officers, yada yada), you and Hoshina ended up spending the entire time just talking and drinking in his office.

"Ooh- this one's pretty good, have a sip." You passed the lemonade over to him and he eagerly took it from you.

"Mmm, I like it but the coffee was better." He said as he chugged the drink. "Fuck, now I have to pee." He laughed.

"Hey! I wasn't finished drinking that!" You pouted, watching as he added the empty can to the stack of other empty cans.

He shrugged. "It was my gift, wasn't it?"

"I'm gonna have Mina demote you. I'm thinking cadet."

He laughed again and the feeling in your chest told you the sound was starting to grow on you.

"Please be my guest, I think everyone would be happier if I wasn't the Vice Captain anyway." He said, speaking the first serious thing you'd heard him say all day.

You nudged him with your shoulder. "I wouldn't. You're actually growing on me, Vice Captain. Even if you are a lemonade hog."

There was that laugh of his again. "How 'bout this? I'll make you a deal. I'll stay Vice Captain and I'll bring you a lemonade every now and then if you promise to follow all my orders."

You rolled your eyes and nudged him again, this time leaning into his shoulder. "Now where's the fun in that? I think you'd have such a good time running around trying to keep up with me, why would I want to spoil that for you?"

He grinned and you thought you felt your heart skip a beat. "Alright I think you really oughta show me the bathroom now before you go telling anymore jokes. I can't laugh anymore than I already have without bursting my bladder." He stood up from the floor where you two had been sitting, brushed up against each other, and held a hand out to you. You took it and he hoisted you to your feet.

"I'm supposed to give you a tour anyway so I guess we can start with the bathroom. Wouldn't want the new Vice Captain to pee his pants."

You both took off down the hallway, knocking your shoulders up against each other, and swaying with laughter.

And that was that- friends in an instant.

If people had seen the two of you from afar, they would've thought you'd been friends since birth the way you two were inseparable after that. You wanted to train? Hoshina would follow right behind, eager to knock you down a peg. He wanted to go for a walk? You'd say there's no way in good conscious you could let a little lady like him walk alone so late at night. He'd punch in you in the arm but let you tag along anyway. You wanted to have dinner alone? Too bad- he wanted a bite of your dumpling. No, actually he wanted all of your dumplings. But he bought you some more afterwards.

You'd even have your fair share of arguments- you may have brought up his brother too much (only because you were so curious about his home life) and he may have shot back that the reason you'd been single so long was because you did dumb insensitive shit like bringing up his brother too much. And then you wouldn't speak to each other for days. But then you'd cut yourself and he'd bandage it for you, grumbling that it was inconceivable how a member of the defense force could be so inept with a knife, or his stomach would growl and you'd grumpily hand him your last granola bar, and then everything would slowly go back to normal between you two again. It was all the little things that made you realize you couldn't live without him. And some part of him had to know he couldn't live without you too. Not anymore.

So now, 6 months later, you're on your way to work, texting Hoshina that you bet you'll beat his lazy ass there, and then you see a crowd of news reporters outside the base. Mina had just sent you and Hoshina to dispatch of a large kaiju roaming downtown yesterday and the reporters couldn't believe that he'd took down the beast and not you so they were there for the "real answers." You were so tired of dealing with all the people who couldn't accept how amazing Hoshina was. For months, you talked with reporters, officers, supervisors, and really just anyone who'd listen about how skilled and inspiring Hoshina was but all your effort had been slow to take effect.

Eventually Hoshina caught on that you were fighting all his battles for him behind the scenes and he made you stop. He was so pure and good, he thought he'd just change their minds with his actions. Said he'd win them over eventually if he worked hard enough. It was that kind of thinking that made you love him and made you all the more pissed to hear people shit talking him.

So today, you're fully prepared to tear the crowd a new one (yet again), when you hear a voice from behind you. "Boy they really don't know when to quit do they? It's like, just leave the man alone."

You turn to see a civilian walking up to you, scoffing at the crowd. You're both shocked and pleasantly surprised that someone besides you is defending Hoshina. You nod enthusiastically. "Yeah, it's like he's done so much for the city and you want to undermine all of that? It's ridiculous."

The civilian nods. "I was there when he took down that kaiju yesterday, I know he's the real deal. The two of you actually make a pretty good team- are you guys dating?"

You choke on your coffee. "Oh, um, us? No we're- we're not together." You say quickly.

The civilian raises an eyebrow. "So you're telling me you don't find that muscled man attractive? Not in the slightest?"

You blush. "I really shouldn't be talking with you about this. I barely know you."

The civilian laughs. "Oh come on. Woman to woman. Don't tell me you haven't thought about what it would be like."

You sigh. You haven't told anyone how you feel about the Vice Captain, not even Mina. It would be nice to vent it all out. And this is a stranger you'll never see again. Fuck it. "Okay fine. I am completely in love with him but that's a secret okay? Who wouldn't be in love with the guy? He's strong, he's handsome, he's loyal, he's funny, he's dedicated, he steals my food but then he replaces it. I mean he's a catch all around. I just really wish people could see him the way I see him. He's a great guy who really cares about people, and that's all there is to it." You shrug as if you're simply reciting a textbook with common knowledge, but inside you're a simple woman who's dying to hear this random civilian tell you more about how you make such a good couple with Hoshina. But this bonding moment is interrupted. By Hoshina.

He's up ahead, across the street from you, and he's yelling and waving at you to hurry up and cross already so you can walk to work together. You excuse yourself, earning a wink and a "go get him tiger" from the stranger, and you run through traffic blushing as you greet him.

"What was that about?" He asks, pointing at the now fading silhouette of the stranger you had just been talking to.

You grin. "Oh nothing- I just met a fan of yours, that's all."

You arrive at work a couple minutes later, Hoshina still demanding for more answers about this so-called fan of his, unaware he even had fans, when suddenly you're greeted at the door by Captain Ashiro herself. She never greets you at the door. And she does not look happy. She looks... constipated? Stressed? You can't quite figure out what face she's making but you realize the face she's making is for you when she finally pulls you into her office and slams the door behind her, shoving her phone at you.

"Mina, Mina what is it, you're scaring me- oh SHIT."

I am completely in love with him but that's a secret okay? Who wouldn't be in love with the guy? He's strong, he's handsome, he's loyal, he's funny, he's dedicated, he steals my food but then he replaces it. I mean he's a catch all around. I just really wish people could see him the way I see him. He's a great guy who really cares about people, and that's all there is to it... to it....that's all there is to it...

You stare at the video of you that's playing on repeat. Notifications flood the phone as you realize you're now going viral with your secret love confession for the Vice Captain.

You think your cheeks might be on fire and your throat is rapidly going dry. You think you might just die. Then it hits you.

"Oh. Oh no. Oh no no no. Where's Hoshina's phone? Mina, please tell me he hasn't looked at his phone yet. Oh I know- you distract him, I'll break into his phone, I'm sure I have to know the password by now- you know what, I'll just break his phone. Yeah. Then he won't have access to the internet. All will be fixed. Mina? You in?" You trail off as you realize she's looking at the door to her office that's now just opened behind you.

Fuck.

"You wanna tell me what this is about?"

Fuck.

Mina winces. "I think I'll leave you two alone now." She closes the door behind her.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You don't turn around. You don't breathe. You don't exist.

"You can't ignore me forever, ya know."

Fuck.

You sigh. You slowly turn around to face your doom.

"Hi. Hoshina. What's up?"

He rolls his eyes. "Don't 'what's up' me, what's up with you? What's up with this?" He holds his phone up with the video that's on replay. I am completely in love with him, but that's a secret okay? I am completely in love with him, but that's a secret okay?

You groan and collapse into Mina's office chair, burying your face in your hands, waiting to die. "Go on. Say what you want." You mumble through your fingers.

You hear him walking up to you and before you have time to think about how mortified you are, he kneels on the ground in front of you and yanks your wrists away from your face. "I want to know if it's true."

You roll your eyes. "Did you not just hear my voice on the video saying I love you? Do you really need to rub it in and hear me say it live?"

He nods sincerely, giving your wrists a squeeze. "I do. I need to hear you say it. I don't care about the news, what I care about is you and right now I need to know how you feel."

You inhale and for a moment you consider not exhaling and just passing out to avoid answering. But then you let out the breath. "It's true. I love you. I've been in love with you. For awhile now."

He smiles softly as if to say everything is okay now and you're lost in the gentle curve of his lips. God you want to taste kiss him so bad.

"Well I'd say I love you too but I don't know if I need a reporter in the room for it to count."

Never mind. You don't want to kiss him anymore. You punch his arm.

He chuckles.

Then he pulls you down to the floor with him and the two of you sit there for a moment, shoulder to shoulder, just like you did when you first met. Then he nudges his head up against your shoulder and whispers, "I really do love you."

And now you kiss him.

[kasagia]

Tolerate it

Pairing: Annatar/Sauron x fem!maia! reader Summary: You were with him from the beginning of his existence, from the first break of the silence. You blindly and faithfully followed him—your great, epic love, doing everything to help him, to stay with him no matter what. Sauron was Morgoth's shadow. And you were Mairon's shadow. What will you do when you realise that your devotion is no longer valued and desired by him? Author's Note: I'm actually proud of this one… I shouldn't say this, but it's my favorite so far. Hope you will like it too! <3 Halbrand's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist

I know my love should be celebrated... but you tolerate it.

- "Tolerate it" by Taylor Swift

You watched carefully as Sauron spoke to the people of Eregion, showering them with his charming smiles and sweet promises. You stared at him, analysing his every little move, seeing the traces of lies and deceit on his face as he tried hard to get on their good side, to deceive them into not seeing through his vision what was really happening behind the castle walls.

You wonder if he did the same to you. When he assured you that Galadriel was just an annoying elf, an obstacle to his plans, could you have detected a hint of deceit in his voice and face if you had looked closely enough? Did he also smile at you sweetly, lying to you directly, only to congratulate himself a moment later and be happy that he had managed to deceive you and suppress your any doubts in him, that would have been inconvenient for his plans?

"My love." He murmurs against your ear, surprising you and tearing you out of your thoughts for a moment.

You flinch as he wraps his arms around you, but he takes it as a shiver of surprise, not disgust. Because how could you, blindly in love with him for centuries, ever untangle yourself from his web of beautiful lies? You wonder if he ever loved you at all, if you were just a toy for him to use from the start.

"You're quiet today. And distant. Is everything alright?" Usually that attentive, caring look he gave you was enough to awaken a wonderful, warm feeling of security and peace within you.

You wonder how many times you've fallen for that illusion of concern for you? How many times has his false concern for you cheered you up? How many times has he laughed behind your back at your naivety?

"Yes. Celebrimbor is making your rings. He should be finishing the Nine soon." You respond, wondering if he'll keep teasing you, if he'll actually care about your feelings. Or if he'll just pat you on the back like a loyal pet for good behaviour and leave you to his own plans like he's been doing lately.

"That's wonderful." He mumbles and presses his lips to your forehead. In any other situation, you would consider it a very affectionate and desirable gesture. But now… his lips burned you. And not in a pleasant way. "Watch over him for me a little longer, my love. Our work here is not over yet. I must make sure that the people of Eregion do not realise what is really happening for a few more hours. Will you keep an eye on him for me, my heart?"

My heart, my love, my dearest... so many beautiful words, words that were hard to hear from him a hundred years ago, now poured from his lips so easily like honey... or wine, which you were supposed to intoxicate yourself with, so as not to open your eyes. Just like the inhabitants of the city he was bringing doom to, as if they meant nothing.

Just like you probably were to him…

"Of course, my darling." You respond with the most genuine smile you can muster. Luckily, he either doesn't notice or doesn't care that you're faking your smile for him. He steals a quick, short kiss and walks away from you in the opposite direction—towards the western gates.

You sigh, leaning against the cool wall of the marble hallway and pressing a hand to your lips. You squeeze your eyes shut, seeing white spots as you try to somehow break free from the situation you've found yourself in.

Uncontrollable sobs wrack your body as the ring he'd forged for you falls from your hand—the ring that was a faint illusion of the real Nenya, which had befallen Galadriel instead of you, which Sauron had given to Galadriel instead of you.

Your heart clenches painfully as you recall the words he spoke to one of the elves last night. Words you accidentally overheard after you went looking for him when he didn't return to your chambers as he had promised you he would.

"Your hair… in this light it reminds me of my lady Galadriel's hair."

His lady Galadriel.

You've survived and gone through a lot of torture, but hearing him speak with such… affection and adoration in his tone of voice about another woman makes you suffer worse than the worst torture you've been throught.

The worst part was that you didn't know what he saw in her. She was just an elf. An elf bearing the light of Valinor—the same light he had forced you to give up for him. If it was so unpleasant to him, why had he been so fascinated by this arrogant elf? Why had he given her Nenya—the ring that was supposed to be yours? Why had he made you feel like the other woman when you were his most loyal soldier—the one who had stood by him through thick and thin?

You hiss as you clench your fists so hard that black blood spills from under your nails, dug into your palm. Through your watery eyes, you watch as the evidence of your corruption—black sap—runs down your palm, staining the metal of the ring he gave you.

You want to take it off, throw it out the window, and never look at this searing reminder of how much you truly meant to him, but you were too far gone. You couldn’t imagine your life without him.

He had become your master, your Valar, your support, your shelter, your heaven and hell, your everything. And for a while, you had been blinded enough to believe that you were just as important and precious to him as he was to you.

You stand before the forge door, feeling like a small child waiting for someone to call you inside—to grant you permission to enter. You wonder when exactly you became so obedient to him. If you could think back to the times when Sauron was just Mairon, Aulë's apprentice, in his forge, you would remember how different you were from who you were today. You were more confident, happier, and filled with light and love for the man who created wondrous, beautiful, unimaginable things under Valar's watchful eye.

You wonder if he was like this already or if Morgoth was slowly injecting poison into his soul. Could you have really prevented his fall? Could you have made sure he never left the forge? Was the fall between the two of you really your fault, the one you were paying for now as you watched your love slip away from you, or was it never truly true? You don't know. You don't want to know. You already feel like you're going mad without his touch and his tender words, without the certainty that you still have some remnant of his soul and love in a heart that clearly stopped beating for you ages ago.

You flinch as the door swings open. Sauron emerges from the forge in a huff, stained with the blood of the elf who forged his beloved rings. He stops, surprised to see you standing in front of the door. You stare at each other for a moment, left in a dull, heavy silence. You break under his intense gaze and instead shift your gaze to the blood stain that has soaked into the black silk material on his chest.

He looked... both angry and agitated, uncertain. You wonder what exactly Celebrimbor had said to him—what exactly had moved him so much that you could see his eyes glaze over for a brief moment before he realised you were waiting for him outside the door.

"Galadriel has them." He informs you, panting with rage. You frown, shifting your gaze uncertainly back to his face.

Thankfully, he’s no longer meeting your gaze. You wonder if it’s because he has the decency to feel guilty about his feelings for the elf, or if he can’t think of her when he looks at you.

You quickly push that thought out of your head. He had everything except decency.

"What?"

"My rings." He growls, looking at you again. You tremble under his dark gaze. HIS rings. Not yours. Not yours. Like all his plans lately - they belonged only to him. "The Orcs will escort you to Mordor. I have a few more things to attend to before I will join you."

You just nod, unsure how else to respond to his words.

You know perfectly well what he wants to do, even if he hasn't told you his entire plan. You know that Adar will soon meet his end at the hands of your beloved. Another life will be taken by him. And with each one, your eyes opened wider and wider.

You gasp as he suddenly covers the distance between you with quick steps and presses you against the wall behind you. He grabs you brutally by the neck and kisses you. Greedily, hungrily, avidly. The force with which he takes your lips and breath is so great that you can't mistake this kiss for anything other than marking his territory. And you know perfectly well that this is exactly what he wants to do.

What he always did.

How blind you were, never seeing that what kept him with you was fear of loneliness, the desire to possess something. You gave him your heart, your soul, your body, everything—without blinking an eye, without a moment's hesitation.

And you watched him tolerate your devotion to him.

As if what you gave him rightfully belonged to him. As if you were ought to bind yourself to him, to be utterly his.

He pulls away from you, cupping your cheeks in his bloody hands and spreading the blood across your skin with his thumbs, staining you with his sins once again. All you can do is stand there, trembling in his grip as he presses his lips to your forehead.

"You're mine. Only mine. Always mine." He brushes his nose against yours, pressing another kiss to your lips. His tongue caresses yours as he tries to reassure himself that you're still caught up in his web of lies and that you still believe in all his tender and sweet gestures that were never really meant to calm your nerves and worries—only him. It was always about him. "You'll look beautiful in a crown next to me. Right, my queen?"

Whatever that elf had told him, it had raised enough doubts in him that Sauron would seek comfort and reassurance from you. A rare thing. Very rare. And you would have treasured that moment, probably remembered it forever, and carved it into your heart if you had not learnt the ugly truth about your relationship.

No matter how much you give yourself to him, he will never be yours in return.

He would never belong to you. He would never celebrate your love; consider it more than something he owed, something he could conquer and flaunt like his rings. You were to be the jewel in his dark crown... right next to Galadriel.

And in that moment you truly envied the elf, for having managed to resist him before he defiled her as he had defiled you.

"Of course, my king." You promise with a smile and lean down to connect his lips with yours—you do what he taught you best. You lie.

Because you know perfectly well that the moment he turns away from you, you will run. Run far away. In the hope that you will escape the darkness that he has rooted in you. In the hope that you can survive, with your heart ripped out and left behind you.

"Have you finally stopped believing his lies? Or is this just another one of your illusions?" You freeze at the sound of Adar's voice behind you.

You turn slowly, watching the fallen elf carefully. Black blood seeps from his temples, but aside from a few wounds on his body, you see no major injuries on the one who once killed your love.

"I thought by now he would have killed you in one of his infamously creative ways." You mock him as you try to ignore the sight of Eregion burning behind him.

"You don't even reach for your weapon? That's an insult, Mistress of Darkness." You shiver at the nickname, playing with the ring on your finger—the very one Sauron had given you—as you consider your answer.

Adar was barely alive. But he was still alive. You wonder how Sauron had retained enough restraint to give him a fate worse than death—watching someone he loved slowly die. In Adar’s case, he had watched his orc children die; in yours, you had watched Mairon die—a death you had been blind to for centuries.

"It is not my intention to fight you." You sigh tiredly, meeting the dark elf's gaze. Something in his demeanour changes. He is less alert, less tense, as if he sees in you the same surrender he had after the clash with your beloved.

"That's funny. I remember you swore one of the worst deaths to me for killing him." You leave his mockery unanswered as you recall that moment. You thought you would go mad with despair and throw yourself at Morgoth's crown, piercing your heart to be reunited with your beloved in the afterlife. With the benefit of hindsight, when you are wiser, you want to laugh at your own stupidity. He played you, your feelings, your mind, and your heart exactly as he wanted. You let him do all he wanted with you, and then you even thanked him for using you. "Has that day finally come? Are you abandoning him to his lust for power?"

The shock in his voice should offend you and drive you to the point of passion and true, unpredictable rage. But it can't. You feel... numb. Empty. Like nothing really matters anymore. And maybe it doesn't, since your soul and heart slowly wither with every second you're not near him.

Pathetic, how after pulling the dagger from your heart that was Sauron's "love," you miss the pain it brought. Even though you accept with relief that you're slowly bleeding to death, you still crave him. Maybe it really was an addiction? An unhealthy obsession that defined who you were? Because who were you really without Sauron?

"Is it really abandonment if he wants to stick with someone else?" You justify yourself, remembering the look in his eyes when he mentioned the elf you hated. You wonder what you envy more, her light or the fact that she truly seemed to have the undivided attention and adoration of a man you would do anything for?

"Galadriel…"

"No one good is ever truly good… and no one bad is ever truly bad." You interrupt him, not wanting to talk about the elf.

You walk over to him and nod for him to sit on the fallen tree trunk next to you. You muster up some mercy towards him (or your own troubled conscience) and staunch his wounds enough for him to pass away in peace... or at least you hope he will.

At least one of you deserved to find peace.

"Is that what you told yourself while being with him?" The silence between you is uncomfortable, but necessary. Necessary for you to realize how much he was really using you. And how much you wanted him to be someone he never was…

"Maybe." You admit quietly, in a barely audible whisper.

Before he can reach for the dagger at his side, you're already pulling away from him and taking his consciousness, putting him into a sleep state. You run, not catching up with yourself, slowing down only to wipe the tears dripping down your cheeks with the back of your hand. The cold metal of Sauron's ring scratches your skin in a painful reminder of your sins.

You pull the hood over your head, using the back of your hand to shake off the snow that had already accumulated as you made your way through the streets in the dark of the night.

It had been a few weeks since you had escaped from Sauron. Weeks spent avoiding his army of orcs, closing the doors to your thoughts to him, and controlling the connection he had created between you in the time you had spent with him.

He had been looking for you—whether out of revenge for your abandonment, longing for you, a desire to punish you and make an example of you, or all three—you didn't figure it out yet. What you did know was that Galadriel had kept her ring, sacrificing the nine, and that Sauron had been gathering his forces to "heal" Middle-Earth, searching every corner he had conquered in the process, looking for you.

But he wasn't the only one looking for you.

Galadriel and Adar had joined forces in the fight against Sauron. And the latter had tried persistently to convince you to stop watching the fight between them. The need to stay away from Sauron was one thing, but the actual thought of hurting him, of being the cause of his downfall… you didn't know if you could survive that. To be honest, you know you wouldn't.

And he knew that too.

That's why he often tried to break down the wall you had put up between you to appear in the form of an illusion. It was often in moments when you thought of him. You're certain you'll never forget the first time he took the opportunity to reach out to you through your connection.

You were lying on a small bed in the inn, staring blankly at the ceiling above you. You had managed to slaughter the orc troop that was chasing you and had made it safely into the city beyond the mountain pass where you had come across them. You didn't know if Sauron had ordered you brought to him dead or alive, but you didn't particularly want to find out just yet.

That's why, after each such "chase," you left behind a trail of orc blood and bodies, escaping to another hole to wait out the danger and re-emerge into the light of day only when he shifted his attention elsewhere. Like you did now.

You lay in the darkness of your miserable room, cursing yourself for not needing sleep like these mortals. How much would you give for your mind to be immersed in the bliss of not a single thought coming to it? To stop fighting and trying so hard to not think about him...

That night you were particularly tired, not only from the fight and the injury you had suffered but also from the whole escape, which had lasted for several weeks. It was nothing in your immortal, long life, but you found those days without him by your side tiring more than any. You wonder what was worse: separation from him or the hardships of escaping from him?

You can't help but wonder what he's doing now. Does he also lie idle, thinking of you? No. That wasn't his style. He'd probably be sitting in some fortress, surrounded by his servants, whom he despised, as he hatched his plans to heal Middle-Earth. A cure that was supposed to be a disease that had begun in him ages ago. That you couldn't see and cure in him.

"Rather miserable and shabby chambers for a queen." You shiver at the sound of his voice echoing through the small room.

You sit up unsteadily, staring at his figure leaning against the door. You blink a few times, convinced that he was a trick of your tired mind, but when he speaks again, you realise that he managed to slip through your barriers and answer your call while you were thinking about him. You had unknowingly dug a rabbit hole for him inside you. And he took advantage of it, crawling through it before you could block him.

"Although… I think this is a room fit for a treacherous queen."

His mockery shakes you out of your strange state of numbness. You stare at him, anger rising in your chest as you hear him accuse you of the one thing he had no right to.

"It is ironic to hear you, of all the creatures, accusing me of cheating, when I was the one who stood faithfully by your side all these years. Besides... you can't say that you didn't see that coming."

"Maybe I am as naive as my queen?" He replies, slowly walking over to you. You get out of bed, standing on the other side of it, desperately trying to put some distance between you.

"Which one? Forgive me, but I'm starting to get a little confused since you're calling so many women by that title." You say, sticking the pin where it hurts.

"Jealous of the elf?"He asks, raising an eyebrow mockingly at you.

"I didn't leave because of jealousy. You know that very well."

Honesty was always something he accepted... worse. He didn't like being vulnerable, showing his cards and saying what he really felt... that's why looks away and tries to change the subject.

"If you come back, I won't punish you too harshly… at least not in a way you don't like." You shiver as memories of your times together—those particularly intense ones, where all you could do was whisper or scream his name, as he destroyed you for anyone else in the sheets of your bed—run through your mind.

“Go back to what?”

"You promised to stand by me. To be my right hand." He responds, offended by the thought that you ask him such a question, that you don't know what awaits you, that he has to explain to you how grateful you should be that he will take you back without any problems.

"I am sure you will find many worthy replacements for me. For example, such a commander of elven forces…"

"I don't want Galadriel." He interrupts you with a sharp, cold tone, irritated that you're bringing up the subject of the elf. He starts to walk around the bed, wanting to get closer to you, and you take a few steps away from him with each one he comes with.

"Did you come to this conclusion before or after she rejected you?" You mock him, watching him closely. And you see perfectly on his face the moment his composure breaks.

After berely a blink of an eye later, he’s standing in front of you, grabbing you roughly by the shoulders and shoving you against the wall behind you. You fight his grip, struggling, trying to kick him, but he’s got both of your wrists in one hand and lifting them above your head, pressing his torso against yours.

"You are mine. I will kill anyone who says or thinks otherwise… including you." He growls in your ear and runs his nose over your temple. You take quick, ragged breaths as you give in to his illusion and his will, sensing his scent, the warmth, as if he were actually with you.

"I am not one of your rings. You can't put me on your finger and expect me not to slip off when you lose interest in me, to faithfully wait for your attention until you feel like playing with me again." You hiss angrily in his face and lift your legs, trying to kick him. He gasps, struggling to keep his grip on your wrists. After a moment, he grabs you roughly by the waist and pushes you onto the bed.

"Stop making this difficult. We both know how it will end. Go home. Before I will drag you to it." He warns you, glaring at you intensely as he steps closer to you. You raise your leg to kick him in the chest, but he catches your ankle, grounding you.

"I have no home. You made sure of that." You growl at him, trying to yank your leg out of his grip, but he won't let you. He takes a step towards you and braces your leg over his shoulder. He presses his lips to your ankle, sending a shiver right up your spine.

"I am your husband..."

"I don't remember you swearing any oaths to me." You respond angrily, yanking your leg out of his grip as he presses kisses along your ankle and lower. You can't let him have enough space to play his tricks and seduce you to get you on his side again.

"It is enough that you have given me one. You cannot break it."

"In the eyes of the Valar we do not exist anyway. We have no souls. So why should I keep the promises made by that part of me that died long ago, buried by your own hand, Mairon?" The use of his true name somehow unsettles him, causing his mask of composure to crumble for a moment. You see in his eyes as old memories of the two of you flash through his mind—when you both bathed in the light of the Valar, when he was just your Mairon. "Forgive me... Sauron."

He recoils from you as if scalded when he hears the hateful tone in your voice as you speak his other name—the one given to him by Morgoth. You see him tremble when it feels from your lips like a foul curse. You give him one of your coldest, most cruel looks, and you almost crumble in your resolve to keep him away from you when you see him shake his head gently, allowing himself a moment of weakness with you.

"You knew perfectly well what I had become… after Morgoth."

"I did. What I didn't realize was that you would want to remain his shadow forever." You respond with bitterness and stare at him with resentment equal to the one he accused you of abandoning him… but how could you stay with him when he hurt you more than anyone else had before?

"I am not his shadow. I am my own master. This... this is who I am."

"Then this is not the man I promised myself to." Your words hurt him. He may not show it in a big way, but you can see it in the way his jaw clenches a little harder after your statement.

"But this is a man you've bonded yourself to. Til the end of the time and much longer after that." He reminds you, never taking his piercing, cold gaze off you.

"Or until one of us is forever gone." There’s another long silence after your statement, this time more tense. You swallow hard, watching in the piercing silence, broken only by your loud heartbeat, as he takes in the meaning of your words. And you can clearly say that he doesn’t like them at all.

"You can't kill me. You won't. You can't. You care too much."

"I know. I meant something else."

At those words, something inside him snaps. He stops controlling you completely. Before you can blink, he's straddling you. You struggle against his grip, fighting him with everything you have, but he pins you down to the bed with all his strength, not letting you move away from him for even an inch.

"If you do… I will pull you from the land of the dead, find your soul, and make you suffer more than Morgoth ever did to us. You will not leave me… not you… if you do not return to me…"

"What will you do? Burn whole Middle-Earth? Destroy me? You've already done that or are about to do it." You growl, digging your nails into his wrists as he tries to lock your hands back in his iron grip. You whine, in pain and shock, as he bites into your shoulder, effectively distracting you so he can overpower you. "Unlike you, I have nothing to lose, my king."

Your mockery only fuels his anger. You gasp as he pushes his knee between your legs, creating a space for himself. Before you can even react, he leans down and captures your lips in a punishing, bruising kiss, as if it were some form of punishment for you - a punishment created by him specifically for his pleasure.

"I will find you… I will find you, and bind you to myself with golden shackles if necessary." He mumbles against your lips, cupping your cheek in his hand.

He presses his thigh against your core, teasing your shamefully dripping pussy for him, asserting his dominance over you. As if to reassure himself that he still has some kind of control over you.

"I'll rip my heart out before you lay even the tip of your littlest finger on me again." You promise him, but it seems unlikely considering the way you grind against his thigh, desperate to get away from him yet unable to do anything but endure his treatment.

"Then I will lay at your feet the heads of everyone who has caused you to leave me. Their lives, the lives of everyone in Middle-Earth, and their blood will be stained your hands."

You can’t help but moan as his fingers find their way to your cunt and pinch it. You bite your lip until it bleeds as he pushes two of his fingers inside you, stretching the tight walls of your pussy for him once more.

"They already do. Since the day I brought you back... since the day I followed you and supported you. Since the day I naively fell into your arms believing that I meant as much to you as you did to me. Since then I have had your sins on my shoulders." You mumble, digging your fingers into his arms as he is tirelessly working on your pleasure.

"If what I feel for you is not love, then I don't know what it feels like."

And then you almost give in to him, almost surrender, wanting to believe his sweet words, wanting to believe that he is actually capable of loving you sincerely, that all those centuries spent by his side were not a waste of time at all.

Almost. Because you realize he is much wiser in the art of deceiving everyone around him than you will ever be.

You sigh as he removes his fingers and instead teases your entrance with the tip of his cock. And even though you know better than to give in to him like that, you can't stop or push him away—too eager for his touch after so long apart to do the right thing.

Instead, you let yourself be submerged in his perfectly tailored illusion of him thrusting into you, glad that he's not actually with you in the flesh, because then you'd fail completely to him once again. In your mind, you find a twisted excuse for your actions and grab his hair hard, sinking your fingers into the perfectly coiffed bow and tugging on it as he pounds into you at an unforgiving pace.

"You will regret this. When I put a crown on you made of your blood and the blood of our enemies, you will regret having abandoned me. I will make you my ornament, my prize, a pretty thing on my arm. Then you will understand how I treat my toys." You whine as each sentence he says ends with him thrusting harder and harder into you.

You close your eyes and bite your lip, trying to keep from making too many sounds, but it doesn’t meet with his approval. He wraps a warning hand around your neck, pressing down just a little as he forces you to look him in the eyes.

You feel the heat spreading across your chest, the ragged breaths that leave your lungs a reward that makes him redouble his efforts, abusing your poor, overstimulated body, forcing sweet whimpers and moans out of you over and over for his pleasure.

"The thing is... you've always treated me this way. Maybe we're both blind—me for seeing it too late and you for thinking you did me a favour by letting me love you endlessly when I got nothing in return."

"I have always adored you." He quickly denies it, telling you another well-practiced lie.

"Did you?" You ask, grabbing his chin firmly. He freezes for a moment, staring at you without saying a word, too surprised that you're still trying to defy him. "Look me in the eyes and tell me it was always me. Look me in the eyes and tell me you would give it all up for me. Look me in the eyes and tell me it was all in my head—that I got your intentions wrong somehow, that instead of celebrating my love, you didn't take it for granted and started craving power more than my love. Look me in the eyes and tell me you would choose me over a hundred rings. I dare you. Show me your alleged love."

You hold your breath, waiting impatiently for his response. For the first time, you realise that you're seeing him without any words. He's staring at you, shocked and frozen, trying to get something out of his mouth.

You laugh bitterly, still with him deep inside you, as he proves to you exactly what you suspected, exactly what you didn't want to see all these years. He didn't truly love you. He never did.

"Get out of my mind. Have enough decency and mercy for my tormented heart and leave me alone." You beg him shakily, allowing yourself to show so much weakness. You close your eyes tightly, stopping any tears from spilling out as the painful truth hits you.

"I can't." He spits it out reluctantly, admitting, probably for the first time in a long time, honestly to you.

Sauron wraps his arms around you tightly, pressing you painfully against him. He digs his fingers into your arms, as if to make sure you don't break free from his grip. He presses his forehead to yours and closes his eyes, taking a shuddering breath.

"Come back. Just come back."

You're not used to seeing him like this. To seeing him... lost, begging for something, being not the one in control. You close your eyes, letting your tears mingle with his—the ones that are dripping onto your cheek from his.

"To watch you tolerate my love again?" You spit at him angrily, and he shakes his head slightly. He removes his forehead from yours and cups your cheek gently in his hand, caressing it as he forces you to look at him again.

"To watch me make everyone in all Middle-Earth fall at your feet and worship you."

"I only want your adoration… it's a pity you're not able to give it to me honestly."

"Y/N... please." He tries one last time, pressing his lips to yours, stealing the words you wanted to use against him. You gasp into his desperate kiss as he begins to move his hips again, tearing you, your soul, and your body in half.

"It was not me who left us in ruins… you have no right… you have no right to ask or beg me for anything." You whine, letting your tears fall down your cheeks.

His plush lips kiss off each tear as he continues to desperately hold you, thrusting into you as if he can redeem himself through his sweet words and the pleasure he brings you.

"Y/N." He whispers desperately, pleadingly, as he brings the two of you closer and closer to climax, despite how reluctant you are to accept him inside you.

He craves your touch, your tenderness, and your warmth. He has to have you back; he can't imagine a world without you; he can't imagine you by anyone else's side but him. And if he has to burn all of Middle-Earth and take you against your will, then he will.

He will do anything to make you see again that you belong together, that he worships you—maybe not to the extent you expect, but as madly and devotedly as his black rotten heart can handle.

"Get out of my mind, you deceiver."

"You… of all people… don't call me that… at least not you." He mumbles against your temple, pressing his lips there.

Every little whisper, every tender touch is just another dose of poison—poison you thought you were already healed from. But in that little moment between you, he reminded you so clearly of the power he has over you and how strong he is. Because even knowing what he is like, you couldn't fight the pull between you. That's why you had to stay away from him. For your own good.

The moment you both fall apart, reaching your peaks, you focus your power and throw him out of your mind, slamming the door shut with a bang. You breathe deeply, tiredly, as the connection between you weakens, even as you feel him hammering with all his might against the gates to your mind you’ve closed. You allow yourself a moment of shuddering sobs, wrapping your arms tightly around yourself and holding on, rocking back and forth on the bed to somehow calm your shattered emotions.

You’d forgotten how strong his illusions could be and how gracefully he could mess with the minds of others, passing off his thoughts to them as their own. You begin to wonder how much of you was really there and how much of the emotion you felt was really coming from him.

You decide you don't want to know.

You quickly gather yourself to set off on your journey, convinced that he has caught your scent and is already in pursuit of you. And you are not wrong. A few hours later, you watch in the distance as the village you stopped at burns under fire and the feet of orcs. At least he has not lied to you about this one thing.

He will burn the world to get to you.

You shiver, coming back to the present as a cold blade is pressed to your neck. You glance at the weapon and frown, recognizing Adar's black blade.

"I thought you wanted to meet like civilized beings?"

"As if you or I could be one." He whispers in your ear. You manoeuvre his hand and push him away from you, throwing him against the wall behind him and pulling out your blade. You aim it at him, watching him carefully.

"What do you want?"

"I want you to specify which side you are on." You laugh mockingly at the demand coming from him. He had definitely become too arrogant over the centuries he had managed to live through. Perhaps you should remind the fallen elf of his place…

"The answer has not changed since we last saw each other. I am on the only side that is right for me in this little war between you, Galadriel, and him. On my own."

"He wants you. And he won't rest until he gets you. You know that." You frown at his words, not at all appreciating the conversation about your former lover. The lover who continued to pursue you tirelessly despite how many times you had escaped the clutches of his orc army.

"And so?"

"We both know you will succumb to him the moment you come within his reach again. And Galadriel and I cannot have that. If you join him… the world will burn in the fires of his creation."

"It is already burning in the fires of its furious search for me." You growl, blocking the attack he launches at you just as you try to move away from him. You land a few blows, which he successfully blocks, but not as effortlessly as he would like.

"This flame we are able to control. The question is for how long?"

"You know very well that I will not join him of my own free will."

"Just enough to also know that he won't give you a choice once he catches you. Together you are too dangerous. So one of you must die."

"And you want it to be me?" You ask with a mocking smile on your face, ignoring the cold shiver that ran through you.

He was right. Partly. It seemed logical to destroy one of you since you were connected to Sauron. By getting rid of one, you take away some of the power from the other. And since you didn't seem like a particularly great threat, they wanted to remove you from the picture.

"I'd prefer it to be Sauron, but since you leave me no choice… I don't care whose dead bodies I step over to bring about his eternal end."

"Oh you showed this very well by sacrificing your so-called children." You mock him, pleased when you manage to hurt him in a vulnerable spot.

He attacks you harder this time, actually forcing you to block his sword. You push him away from you, moving to the next street, one that leads out more to the outskirts of the village, where you could see the nearby forest.

"I don't want you to die. But I will kill you if I have to." He growls, thrusting forward, trying his best to cut your skin with his blade.

Adar posed no threat to you. Yet you knew you would not be able to avoid their efforts to kill you for long. Eventually you would have to choose a side. But you feared your battered heart had not yet healed enough to make the best decisions for yourself.

"Then you will make him win. He'll have nothing to lose after my death. Literally nothing. And you know perfectly well what a desperate man will do, don't you, Adar?"

"Make him fall… or fall before him."

"What should I do? Return to his side and be your spy? Do you think he won't notice that I won't sense the trick? Or that I won't change my mind? He knows my mind. He will see over this little lie."

"But he doesn't know your heart." You can't stop the slight twitch of your facial muscles—a sign of weakness that he quickly spits out and greets with a dark, mocking smile of victory.

"I don't have one anymore." You answer without emotion, knowing that it is partly true. Part of your heart had been cut out, and what was left of it was no longer fit to function like it once did. Sauron made sure of it.

"That's why I trust you in terms of making him disappear once and for all." An unpleasant shiver runs through you, and a strange feeling of unease settles heavy in your chest at his words. The thought of killing him, of being part of the cause of his death, isn't... as liberating as it should be. Which scares you a little bit.

But before you can say anything, agree or reject his proposal by mocking him, you hear the howl of a warg coming from the nearby forest. And that could only mean one thing…

"You fucking traitor." You growl at Adar and charge at him. He deliberately delayed you, allowing the orc scouts to catch up with you.

Instead of thinking about escaping, you think about how to hurt him the most. That's why you want to show him what happened to his children. You're both in the middle of the fight when the first orc units reach you. They throw themselves at you as well as at their father, with the difference that none of them dares to raise a weapon at you. They have a clear mission. To catch you and take you to their master. The rest of the world was of lesser importance to Sauron.

Unfortunately, Adar manages to escape the battlefield. If you weren't busy killing orcs, you'd mock what a coward he is, since he can't face what he once loved and cared for. On the other hand, unfortunately, you understand him. You realise this when, in this sudden commotion, amidst blood both black and red, the fire from the torched village, the screams of men, and the army of orcs, you see him.

Sauron. Halbrand. Annatar. Mairon. He had many names. And many faces. You wonder if you ever got to know his real one.

But you won't let me win that easily. That's why when your eyes meet his, you run in the opposite direction. He's not calling you. He's not stupid enough to think that you'll come to him of your own free will. That's why you run, not even turning to see if he's following you. Because you know perfectly well that if you focus your senses enough, you'll feel his breath on the back of your neck.

Running into the ruins of the forest, you know you have no escape route. They burnt everything and buried every possible hiding place, leaving only fire and darkness behind. Strangely, you didn't pay any attention to it. You wonder if your ignorance stems from the far worse things you've already seen while at Sauron's side or if you've simply stopped paying attention to things that don't directly concern you.

Your heart beats madly as you hear his footsteps behind you, and you feel him trying to simultaneously cage you in his arms and break through the barrier you've put up in your mind.

In your flight from him, you fail to notice how he manipulates your surroundings, masking his protruding crotch with his illusion. You stumble, giving him just enough time to catch up to you.

You fight him, trying to break through his armour with your dagger, but he doesn’t let you squirm under him for long. He knocks the weapon out of your hands, catching your wrists in a tight grip and lifting them above your head. He lets you fight his clinging grip for a moment longer, staring at you intently, drinking in all the changes in you since he last saw you. And you can’t stop your heart from beating a little faster at the sight of him.

"Are you done?" He asks you mockingly, piercing you through with his icy gaze.

"I don't know yet." You pant, still exhausted from running away from him and fighting him. You try to kick him with your legs and push him off of you, but he holds his ground above you, his body pinning you to the dead ground beneath you.

"I can go on like this for eternity." He warns you, bored, as if he hadn’t spent all those nights over the past century searching for you, cursing your name as you slipped through his fingertips each time he was close to catching you.

"Me too." You growl at him angrily, renewing your attempts to defeat him with even more furious passion.

You managed to surprise him enough to somehow crawl out from under his grip. You push him away and stand up to keep running, but he grabs your ankle and pulls you back to him. And before you can react, his mouth is on yours, devouring you in the most ravenous, unholy way possible—taking your breath away, any thought that was going to cross your mind.

You can't help but moan into his mouth. He takes the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, ravaging you even more with each movement of his tongue against yours. He cups your cheeks in his hands, making sure you don't pull away from his kiss. He presses his body against yours with a groan, as he is finally able to properly sink into the feeling of your lips, warmth, and scent.

He can't count how many sleepless nights he spent thinking about you. It was pathetic, how frustrated he felt, how he had to meet his needs on his own, while sinful images of you—precious memories he held onto—tempted him and distracted him from his main mission.

But he finally had you. And he'd be damned if he'd ever let you walk away from his watchful gaze again.

"Lord Sauron we have taken over…" The orc who was supposed to give him the message couldn't even finish his sentence as Sauron sent one of his blades towards him.

You could hear his dead body fall to the ground a little further away from you as Sauron hungrily, open-mouthed, moved along the column of your neck with his lips, placing wet kisses, leaving hickies and bite marks all the way down to your clothed chest—marking you as his property once again.

"You killed him."

"I have many of them. And only one of you." He doesn't even have the decency to care about your accusation and stop kissing every tiny inch of your skin he can reach. You sigh, trying to pull away from him, but with each tender kiss he places against your skin, it becomes more and more difficult.

"It's exactly the same with your rings, and yet this rule doesn't apply when it comes to them."

"Don't start." He mumbles and pinches your side in warning. You give him a hurt, angry look, and he just chuckles darkly, thug-like. It's one of the rare times you see him so... relaxed and carefree, without any worries or plans nagging at him, when all he wants to do is lose himself in you.

"I should have killed you ages ago. Or myself. Or both of us." You mumble as his fingers begin to work on the laces of your blouse. He presses a kiss to your cheek, completely ignoring your small threats as he cups your breast in his hand and begins to fondle it. You hiss as he plays with your nipples, and you involuntarily tangle your hands in his hair, pulling him closer to you.

"And I should punish you for leaving me, but yet here I am, worshiping my queen." "We need each other. You know that. So stop fighting it." He whispers into the crook of your neck, continuing to pepper it with kisses. With your other hand, you reach for the dagger at your side and, taking advantage of its looseness, press the metal against the back of his neck.

"You may have needed me… but I never needed you."

"Lier." He growls, not moving an inch, waiting to see if you dare to pierce his skin and draw his black blood, or if you will finally give in to your wild desire, fuelled by a century of your running away from him.

"Deceiver." You respond just as furious, and you roughly push his head away from you so you can look him in the eye. He licks his lips, watching the furious look in your eyes, a raging storm of both lust and rage.

"A damn good couple, don't you think?" He asks, raising an eyebrow at you. You bite your lip, staring at him, your grip on the dagger tightening as you lightly trace the line of hair at the nape of his neck with the tip of the blade, still hesitating.

"It's them or you. From the rain to the gutter."

"But only at my side will you become queen." He entices you and puts his hand around your neck, forcing you to lift your chin and meet his intense gaze.

"Queen of nothing." You comment, emphasizing the last word with a glance at the empty, scorched earth around you.

"My queen." He corrects you. He gently removes his hand from your body and reaches for the back of his head—where you still have an iron grip on his hair. You freeze when you feel him slide his little breast onto your free finger.

"This time we will be equal. Or I will bring doom upon us both."

And though your warning sends an unpleasant shiver of alarm through him, he ignores it completely. He leans down, capturing your lips in a bruising, passionate kiss, and can't help but smile as he hears and feels you drop the dagger to the ground.

"I think I can work with that." He mumbles against your mouth, throwing himself at you like a starving man looking for a warm meal.

You idly trace patterns on his back with your fingers, carefully considering your next move. For now, you'll let him think he's placated you and that he's on your good side again.

And in time, when he once again takes your devotion for granted—and you're convinced he will—you'll seize the opportunity against him. You'll be the queen of nothing. And you'll do it without a king by your side. If he can't celebrate your love, then you don't have to accept his rule.

This time you will be the one to tolerate his affection for you.

[malfoys-demigod]

hey there! heard you were looking for some Logan fluff ideas. What about something where Logan’s significant other is pretty much his opposite. They are super happy, and like to laugh, they are really short compared to him, that sort of thing. And taking inspo from jenna marbles, what if the reader likes to sit there at like 1 or 2 in the morning watching tiktoks that make them laugh so hard they’re crying, and Logan will walk into the room and be confused until they show him some random, dumb tiktok. And he just kind of shakes his head but sits there with them while they continue to laugh at more tiktoks. I’m thinking Deadpool 3 Logan cause he’s the most serious out of any Logan. Thoughts?

Headcanons of Logan taking interest of his S/O’s tiktok fyp

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ Logan Howlett x Reader

A/N: Hi @welcometochilis585 !! Loved your thoughts and hoped you don't mind me using my own favorite tiktok trend right now which is the Daniel Larusso glazing Mr. Miyagi videos since it's been on my fyp and all I do is keep laughing every time I see it!

If you guys aren’t aware of the tiktok trend, I highly suggest you check it out on tiktok! It’s so funny and it’ll help make you understand the humor behind the fic! :)

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

First of all, you were an entirely different person to your boyfriend. 

He was such an old man that carried some of the following personalities: unenergetic, downbeat, and grave. 

It was reasonable for people to wonder how the two of you became an item, but hey! 

Opposites can attract! 

Especially when it comes to height. 

He was around 6’2, constantly towering your short built

That was one of the things he found cute about you

How a joyful and energetic person could run around for him to tower with his opposite energy and still be their same self. 

Another thing he secretly liked about you was your uncontrollable laughter, laughing about anything and almost everything. 

One time when Wade was throwing a party and invited everyone to come over, he once told you he was on a seafood diet. 

“I’m on a ‘see-food’ diet. I see food, and I eat it. It’s surprisingly effective!” 

You started giggling as if you’ve heard Wade’s best joke, even if it wasn’t. 

Logan just watched you giggle, trying to keep a straight face. 

But what he had a hard time finding funny for a while were the things you were watching on your phone, specifically on Tiktok. 

At first, they were just moments by the couch when you’d start laughing at your phone and Logan, sitting beside you, would look over to your view and see nothing but people making weird faces and actions. 

“BFFR” (Be fucking for real) was what came out of your mouth after watching some videos and Logan would just raise an eyebrow to himself, trying to decipher what you just said

The breaking point for Logan when he couldn’t help but want to know what was making his girl laugh more than his own regular old man jokes was when you started watching more tiktoks on your phone at night before sleeping. 

While Logan was trying to sleep, you were still up at 2 in the morning, swiping from video to video, still giggling like you weren’t tired to sleep yet. 

You were watching the recently viral “Cobra Kai Daniel Larusso Glazing Mr Miyagi” videos that were taking your fyp by storm. 

The current video you were watching included the latest viral addition to the trend that had the chaotic “GET OUT!” meme included after Larusso would mention Mr. Miyagi that made you howl like a maniac, followed by heavy laughter. 

Logan shot up from the bed, turning over to see you scrolling through the comments of the video. He looked really pissed. Not because you were keeping him from sleeping, but because he still couldn’t understand what was so funny. He wanted in. 

“What the hell is that, darl?” 

“Oh, sorry babe, was I too loud?” 

“No, I wanna know what the hell is so funny. Can you at least try to explain to me your little tiktoks?” 

You sat up, with a giddy smile, scooching closer to Logan. “Have you seen the Karate Kid movies from the 80s?” 

“Yeah, ages ago.”

“Well there’s a reboot television show called Cobra Kai with some of the same characters from the movies and in the show, people have noticed that Daniel Larusso keeps glazing Mr. Miyagi every time he has the chance and on tiktok, people have been making edits where every time Larusso says Mr. Miyagi, there’s this funny “GET OUT” audio that’s included after which just makes the theory that Daniel’s somehow heads over heels with him.” 

Logan looked at you with a concentrated face. You were hoping he somehow got it, but with the silence ongoing, Logan only seemed to have gotten confused with one tiny bit of your explanation. 

“Right, but what’s a glazing?”

You bursted out laughing over a simple question. “Logan!”

“It’s basically to over praise or over compliment someone, and in this case, it’s over Mr. Miyagi.” you explained 

You continued watching more of the mentioned tiktoks, teaching Logan how funny it was to you and how the repeated comments such as “Stroke it Daniel-san” and “Hai Daniel-san” would constantly make you laugh still, even after watching the same tiktoks with the same comment sections. 

Logan kind of understood the humor behind the viral videos now, but he still just sat shaking his head as if he was watching the same videos all over again while you continued laughing your ass off and reading the comments after each video. 

But at the end of the night, as you both settled into the bed all snuggled up together, the soft glow of the screen flickering in the dark, he found himself more captivated by your laughter than the videos themselves. You were curled up next to him, eyes sparkling with delight, as another clip played. He couldn’t quite grasp the humor the way you did, but it didn’t matter. The way your laughter bubbled up, pure and unfiltered, made his heart warm.

As you laughed, he couldn’t help but smile, soaking in the sound and the sight of your joy. It was infectious, and he loved seeing you so happy, your laughter filling the room with an energy that was impossible to resist. When the video ended, and the room grew quiet again, he realized that watching you enjoy yourself had been the best part of his night.

Later, as you both drifted off to sleep, he found himself replaying those moments in his mind, a content smile on his lips. He didn’t understand the jokes, but he didn’t need to. Seeing you so carefree and full of life was all the reason he needed to be happy.

[rinkkuma]

୨୧ JJK BOYS AS BFS

ft. yuta okkotsu, suguru geto, & yuuji itadori

tags. reader implied to have long enough hair to tie up in one of suguru's, gn!reader, a bit of cussing, all fluff ! / author's note. gave my bbg (satoru) his own separate post here! i am planning to do a part two! stay tuned (≧∀≦)

YUTA OKKOTSU

definitely the type to be a tiny bit shy at the beginning of your relationship. nervous to ask if he could hold your hand or whatnot, but the moment you say yes his worries melt away. but once he gets comfortable.. oh boy. he is holding your hand 24/7. his hand is super soft though and he gives you the occasional playful squeeze as he smiles at you.

all the other second years teased the fuck out of yuta before you two started dating. his heart nearly stops beating every time he talked to you, there were butterflies in his stomach, his words were getting jumbled, everything that could go wrong did. he tried his very best not to be nervous and obvious about his crush on you, but it eventually slipped while the two of you were having casual conversation with the other second years. (they all face planted and laughed uncontrollably but hey, at least he finally confessed)

he is so gentle with you. whenever he hugs or cuddles with you, his hold is never too strong or too loose. he will never raise your voice at you for whatever reason. he always follows the sidewalk rule. walks slightly faster when he needs to open a door so he can open it for you. pulling out a chair for you. whatever it may be, he treats you like royalty.

yuta is super attentive! the second he sees you slightly shiver, he is taking off his jacket and handing it to you without a second thought. when he notices the look of wanting to go home while you're out and about, he is dragging you to the car. even the slightest change in facial expression, yuta will notice.

will do any chores for you. especially if you hate doing them. he's bored out of his mind while you're doing an assignment, and he doesn't want to bother you? he is cleaning your room, doing your laundry, and sweeping the floors. yuta doesn't mind doing them either! i mean it was gonna be done sooner or later, so why not just do it now?

SUGURU GETO

like the gentleman he is, insists on carrying your bag. anywhere, anytime. after you buy something, he snatches the bag on the counter before you have the chance. the bags are never heavy to him. unless he's carrying a whole haul of bags he'll admit it's a tiny bit heavy, but he would rather die than have you carry your bags.

catches himself staring at you a lot. you could be having a conversation at a table facing each other, and he'll rest his chin on his hand and look at you with the most lovestruck expression ever. when you fall asleep before him, he looks at you with a soft smile all the while he cups your face.

before you two start dating, he smiles so hard while he texts you. (his smile is even bigger now that you're dating, but we'll save that for another time) he almost starts giggling and kicking his feet type excited. suguru also adds ‘my’ to the beginning of your name for your contact name when you officially start dating.

always has hair ties on his wrist for you. (and partially for him) notices that your hair keeps getting in your face while you study? he is already tying it for you. speaking of doing your hair, he can do any hairstyle. literally you could show him a hairstyle you wanna try, and he does it perfectly the first time.

discreetly sprints runs to the passenger side of the car to open the door for you. absolutely insists on opening the door for you. especially if it's raining, he does not want you to get the slightest bit wet, so he opens the door while holding an umbrella over you. one time while it was raining though, he almost slipped and you burst out laughing.

YUUJI ITADORI

if he ever overhears you talking about a certain movie or show with him or someone else, he will one hundred percent watch it for you so he can talk to you about it. even if it's not his cup of tea, it gives him an excuse to see you ramble about something you enjoy and allows him to listen intently.

he loves hearing you laugh and seeing you smile, so he makes a lot of jokes around you. sometimes they aren't really funny, but you always crack a small laugh every time and it makes his heart race every time.

will hold the umbrella for the two of you when it rains. the first time it started raining while you guys were out, he was jumping for joy. (in his head) he has been waiting for this moment since like, forever and he almost always carries an umbrella around during the winter season just in case of this. the second it started to rain, he pulled it out of his pocket (that you did not know existed) and opened it up over the two of you. if the umbrella is too small for the two of you, he makes sure it's at least covering you. he does not care if he gets wet.

very slightly panicked if you ever get hurt. it could be as small as a paper cut, a scrape on your knee from falling, and oh boy. he is losing his mind. it's not like he didn't know how to tend wounds, but he would be so worried that your tiny little paper cut would be life-threatening. after about 2 hours of calming him down, he is no longer worried about the injury.

bakes you a cake for your birthday! (with the help of megumi, nobara, and all of the second years of course) it was a disastrous experience to say the least, but the cake didn't turn out too bad. sneakily figures out your favorite cake flavor a few weeks prior. (he asked megumi to randomly start a conversation with you about dessert and lured you into finding your favorite flavor) he shows up to your door first thing in the morning before he starts to sing (in the doorway) and gives you a bazillion hugs throughout the whole day.

[thursdayinspace]

ficlet: wrapped with a bow

@laurencem told me to write Mulder gift-wrapping Scully as his own birthday gift, and I really had nothing else to do tonight. So this is for you, Yeti! You ask, I ignore the state of my apartment and write fic. (I mean, does it really matter whether I clean the bathroom now or tomorrow morning?) This is just a quick little thing, but writing them being silly is so much fun. tagging @today-in-fic

“Scully?” he says, panting and boneless, “Scully? Come up here.”

She lifts her head where she’s kneeling between his legs and wipes her mouth. “Huh?”

“Come up here.” He waves at her limply, his arms heavy, heart still hammering hard in his chest. Are you ready for your first birthday present of the day? she’d asked, slipping between his legs and sucking him off until he was seeing stars. He’d thought he was ready. But good god, he’s amazed she didn’t transport him straight to the afterlife. In fact, he’s not quite sure that this isn’t the afterlife. And if it is… He squeezes his eyes closed. Holy fucking shit, what a way to go.

She stretches out next to him and he brings up a hand to her face to wipe a last drop of his come from the corner of her mouth. She looks so very pleased with herself and she has every reason. He’ll buy her a trophy. He’ll learn to cross-stitch and make her a little thing to hang up above her side of the bed: Dana Katherine Scully, Birthday Blowjob World Champion.

“So you liked your present?” She grins at him, her lips red and swollen, and he grins back at her.

“I did. I loved it.”

“Good.”

“Better than good.” He puts his arms around her as she rests her head against his shoulder. She cuddles up close to him and if they’d be doing nothing but this for the rest of the day, he would be more than okay with that. But as his heart rate returns to normal and he regains the ability to formulate thoughts beyond ‘Oh dear lord yes’ and ‘I don’t think I’ll ever be able to move again,’ he realizes what would make the morning even better. “Hey Scully?”

“Yeah?”

“I was just wondering…”

“What?”

“Is it too late for one more last-minute birthday wish?”

She frowns, propping herself up on one elbow next to him. “That depends entirely on what it is. You know I’ll let you talk me into anything against my better judgment four times out of five, but I’m not going Bigfoot-hunting with you today. The rain’s really coming down out there.”

“Oh, it’s very much an indoor activity,” he promises. “Well, not that it doesn’t work outside. I mean, we have done it outside. And that was pretty fun, actually. But it’s definitely mostly an indoor thing, and I think maybe you could even consider it a gift for both of us, if you think about it. I know you enjoy it too. I was actually planning to give it to you for your birthday in a few months, but that’s the good thing about it, really. It can be gifted over and over, and—”

“Mulder!”

“Yes?”

“You have to—” she starts, and then squeaks as he rolls her over and tackles her to the mattress.

“I’ll even wrap it myself.”

She laughs. “Mulder,” she says again and wiggles underneath him, not really trying to get free. “Mulder, stop it.”

She giggles uncontrollably as he tugs at the bedsheets with one hand and wrestles her underneath. “Sorry,” he says. “I’m usually better at gift wrapping.”

“You’re crazy,” she gasps as he rolls her into a tight blanket burrito so her arms are pinned to her sides. “You’re completely crazy.”

“You love me.”

“I guess there’s not much point in denying that anymore,” she mumbles, face half smushed into the pillow as she’s lying immobilized on her belly, wrapped up nice and tight.

He kneels next to her and tilts his head pensively as he takes in the picture. “Something is missing.”

“Yeah,” she says, trying to blow at a strand of hair that’s clinging to her cheek. “Your sanity.”

“No, that’s not it.” He brushes the offending strand of hair behind her ear, then holds up a finger. “I know. Hold on. Stay just like this and don’t move.”

“Oh, haha, very funny.” She does her best to sound annoyed, but he can see the sparkling in her eyes as he climbs off the bed.

He searches the floor, their clothes in a trail from door to bed where they hastily discarded them last night, and finally picks up his sweater. He jumps back onto the bed, landing on his knees, making her bounce a few inches on the mattress.

“You’re in so much trouble,” she says. “Once I get out of here. So much trouble.”

“It’s my birthday.” He says. “You can’t be mad at me on my birthday.”

She sighs. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

With a triumphant grin, he slides the sweater under her head and ties the sleeves neatly over her forehead. “There.”

“What on earth…?” she asks.

“Every nicely wrapped present needs a bow.”

“You’re not normal, Mulder.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, I suppose. Are you going to unwrap me now?”

He runs a hand over the blanket from her shoulder to her thigh. “Hey, no card?” he asks, doing his best to sound upset. “Where’s the card?”

“Mulder, I swear to god—”

“Okay, okay.” He leans down for a kiss and feels her smiling into it. “I guess I’m ready for my present.”

“I think your present is ready for you too.”

“Are you saying that because you want me to unwrap you or is there something else you had in mind?”

The look she gives him is the one that makes him do whatever she commands without a second thought. “At this point? There’d better be a ‘something else’ after the unwrapping.”

She’s trying so hard to look angry with him and it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen. “Oh, as often as you want,” he promises. “I swear. Part-time-Bigfoot-hunter’s honor!”

“I’m glad to hear it,” she says dryly.

He unrolls her slowly and carefully, and feels actually, seriously, honest-to-god excited. He feels giddy as he finally pulls the covers off her and watches her lying here, glaring up at him. She’s so beautiful he can barely breathe. “Scully?”

“What now?”

“This is a really good birthday so far.”

“I’m sure it could be even better,” she says, and he kisses her. First her lips. Then the rest of her.

As he lowers his head between her thighs and finally gets his mouth on her, he’s already getting hard again—not surprising, he thinks. Nothing is hotter than getting her off. He lets himself drown in the smell and taste of her, and then she gives him his real present as she arches off the mattress and comes with a cry that makes him happier than any Happy Birthday anyone has ever sung to him.

“Hey,” he says, looking up at her, taking in her flushed face, the rise and fall of her chest as she breathes heavily through the aftershocks. “Thank you for my present.”

“Oh god.” She lets her head fall back with a long exhale. “You’re welcome.”

“And I really liked my birthday breakfast.”

She starts laughing and he crawls up the bed, looking at her, high on love and happiness.

“You know, I liked mine too and it’s not even my birthday,” she tells him, then sighs deeply. “There was no coffee though.”

“That’s okay,” he says. “We’ll have a second breakfast.”

“We can have breakfast as many times as you like,” she promises, and he lays down next to her and pulls her into his arms.

She’s his real gift, he knows it down to his bones. More than he deserves. But she tells him she loves him and he’s always been a believer, so he’ll believe this too. And give her as many gifts in return as she wants, whenever she wants. Anything he has to give. It’s all hers already.

[gingerteafairy]

𝙗𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙥𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙘𝙚 (𝙩𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙭 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧)

Tate's nirvana obsession led to a not-so -innocent band practice.

tags n warnings: crack!fic, f!reader, mdni, smut, pwp, piv. word count: 592

The house was unusually quiet for a Saturday —except for you and Tate, hooking up like rabbits on his dark green duvet. Tate’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the cold iron bar of the bed headboard, his palms slick with sweat, holding your legs by his blushed shoulders. Who knew how long the two of you had been fucking—time seemed to dissolve into the rhythm of his hips.

Tate wiped a bead of sweat off his forehead. “Hey,” he panted, mid-thrust, “you know Nirvana, right?”

Your cheeks flushed and your hair sticking to your face in every direction, squinted at him. “Uh… yeah? Smells Like Teen Spirit? Oh right there, baby.” You failed a bit on your voice, reaching that sweet sensation.

Tate rolled his eyes, steadying you with one hand. “No, hmmm... it’s more than that. It’s like… it’s a vibe.” He cleared his throat and began singing, albeit off-key:

“Come as you are, as you were...”

You burst into laughter between your wimpey moans. “Oh my god, Tate! You sound--hmmm, like a dying cat!”

“Rude,” he shot back, though his crooked grin betrayed how pleased he was that you were laughing. “Let’s hear you do better.”

“Okay, okay,” you said, trying to catch your breath. You scratched his back and sang—or rather, squeaked:

“Come as you aaaaaaarghhh! FUCK, TATE”

Tate doubled his thrust to intentionally make you fail, which sent a humongous laugh in his lungs. He rocked his hips deep with a muffled “fuck”. “That was so bad, sugar. Worse than me.”

You were laughing so hard you had to cover your mouth, your legs giving out to tremble. “It’s your fault! You distracted me with your cock, you bastard! You, ugh, looked like a drowning crow.”

“‘m a drowning crow,” Tate deadpanned, his head lying flat on your chest, nipping your skin. “You should sing backup for me. You’re a natural. Sing f’me, honey.”

“As I waaant you to beee,” you sang with the least amount of breath you had, before cupping his face in your hands in a sloppy kiss.

Tate groaned, grinning. “As a friend, as annn old memoryyy”

“Still so fucking bad.” You shot and grabbed his hand, pushing him away. “Up, wanna ride you.”

The two of you stumbled out of the mattress, limbs jelly-like, and made your way to sit on his lap to wrap his swollen cock from your juices inside your cunt again.

Tate holds your ass as you insert his cock slowly in your abused pussy, looking dramatically bored. “C’mon, hurry. Let me cum, hm?”

“Only if you keep singing,” you sigh, plopping down, moaning with his full length reaching your cervix. “It's awkwardly sexy.”

Tate smirked and started again: "Take your time, hurry up...”

You joined in this time, your voices merging into a chaotic duet. You wobbled on his lap, your attempts to sing turning into uncontrollable giggles and moans, driving into a perfect climax together a few seconds later.

“You’re so bad at this!” Tate gasped, wiping his face on his comforter, before taking it to cover both of you.

“You’re worse!” you retorted, laughing so hard you nearly tipped over.

You sang and laughed until the sun started dipping lower in the sky, your voices hoarse and your clothes damp with sweat and cum. As you walked home, you glanced at Tate and grinned. “Best band practice ever.”

Tate nudged you playfully. “You’re the worst lead singer I’ve ever heard.”

“And you’re the worst Nirvana impersonator alive,” you shot back, sticking out your tongue. "Bye, Kurt."

[duffslut]

Uncontrollable desire

Axl Rose x Reader

My Masterlist.

Word Count: 408

Warnings: Smut! Minors Dni.

After you and Axl finally finished eating the entire chocolate bar you laid your head on his chest feeling his fingers playing with your hair.

- Why do you smell so good today? - You asked, starting to rub your nose on his skin and then distributing kisses on his chest.

- I always smell nice. - Axl replied. - Now you're turning me on with those kisses.

Axl pulled you by the hair and started kissing you, you kissed him back with such an intensity that you didn't even know where it was coming from.

- Baby... - You said trying stop the kiss. - Babe! - You called him again as your hand unintentionally touched Axl's groin.

- What? - Axl asked and then went back shoving his tongue inside your mouth.

- Why are you so hard we're just kissing. - You said, biting your lips trying not to laugh.

- Are we? - Axl asked and then slapped your ass, pressing it against his dick.

- Stop I wanna watch the movie! - You said, giving Axl one last kiss before getting off of him.

You went back to lying next to him the way you were before, but for some reason your body couldn't stay away from Axl's for more than a few minutes and soon you were rubbing your ass against his crotch, knowing you were teasing him but pretending not to notice.

- I'll give you what you want. - Axl suddenly whispered in your ear after he couldn't take it anymore, and your whole body shivered at his deep voice.

Your panties were pulled to the side, and before you could say or do anything, Axl already had his cock inside you. You were pulled by the waist by him, getting on top of him, your nails scratched his perfect abdomen while you bounced on his cock, taking every inch of him inside you. Axl held your hips so tightly it almost hurt, he moaned as he helped you move back and forth on top of him.

- Oh fuck! - You moaned rubbing your clit as you bounced on his cock faster and faster, squeezing your pussy around his cock feeling it throb, you and him were about to cum.

You leaned your head forward and rested it on Axl's chest, after he and you came at the same time. For some reason you looked at the empty chocolate bar wrapper lying on the edge of the bed, and the name written on it made you laugh.

"Sex chocolate by tabs"

[vegan-peppermint]

SFW and NSFW what dating Jeff would be like <3

Dating Jeff the Killer would include

Both SFW and NSFW

You can find the rest of the creeps here

Nsfw CW: P in V, unprotected- slight breeding kink?

SFW

Jeff's been stalking you for quite some time before introducing himself

Watching over you as you walk to school

Peaking from the window as you were fighting with your parents

Every now and then, he would find himself coming back to your neighborhood, your street, your house, you.

How many times were you looking aimlessly out the window, having no idea your eyes met his

Until he finally decided to introduce himself to you, on a random Tuesday months ago

Your usual night routine was interrupted by a soft repeating tapping sound coming from the window

Your dates only happen at night

He either helps you out the bedroom window, inviting you to roam the streets in the dark

The two of you are hanging out in empty playgrounds, every so often some other creeps joining you

But most of the time, it was just you two fooling around

Jeff running wide circles around the Merry-go-round, pushing it faster and faster as you grip the bars tightly

You partially screaming at him through uncontrollable laughter as the carousel spins so quick the world dissolves into a whirl of colors and shapes

Jeff spray painting you on random building

Its just a stick man with boobs

Being chased by the police, he runs faster than you

"I don't have to outrun them, I just have to outrun you!" He'd laugh.

You tripped him

Eating junk food in random parking lots

Talking about anything and everything for hours

You never met someone who understands you the way he does

He understands how everything that's happened affects you

He knows how you reacted before you even finish the story

You realise he has been through similar things before

Never getting to have a serious, emotional moment because he starts acting like a clown

When the nights grew colder you would invite him in your room

Cuddling in your bed as you watched movies

Falling asleep in his arms only to be awaken in the middle of the night by his snores

Trying to squeeze out of his arms to get out of bed

Only for his arms to wrap around you to drag you back in

His hands pulling you closer with your back against his chest

He squeezes you tighter murmuring sweet things in your ear

On mornings like this, you take full advantage

NSFW

Swaying your hips as you protest against his grip

Your ass brushing against his morning boner

Him groaning in your ear

"Come on, Jeff~ let me get up" you'd moan pushing your ass against his erection

Jeff getting excited, removing the layers between your soft skin and his eager hands

You act all innocent and clueless as he rubs his bare cock against your ass

One hand getting under your shirt squeezing your breast and tugging at your hardened nipples

You squirm against his cold touch

"Mhm- Stop moving so much!"

You barely register the words as you feel the fat, angry tip pushing past your wet fold

He's too big.

"It h-hurts!" you cry

"Why you moaning so fucking much then?"

He feels better than anything you've ever felt before, your walls stretching to accommodate his size

With a hard thrust he pushed himself inside you completely

He loves it when you scream, the sudden shock of him overwhelming you

"F-fuck, you're so wet, baby,"

He exhales heavily, cock twitching inside you

"No matter how many times I break this pussy, it's so tight every time,"

The moment of stillness passes and he starts pounding into you- slick, wet sounds fill the room

He pants against your ear, his hand creeping between your legs

He slaps your clit sending shivers through your whole body

"Such a pretty fucking cunt,"

His hips press in faster and his cock reaches deeper

You couldn't do anything but grab at the sheets beneath you

You're stuffed to capacity, a sobbing and blabbering mess

"Taking me so well, baby," he grunts. "You were made for me. For my cock."

You reach back to grab a fistful of his hair pulling him into a messy kiss, moaning into his open mouth

He loves feeling the way your gummy walls stretch every time his thick cock enters you

His grip on you tightens, his strong arms caging you

His thrusts get sloppy and needy, his teeth biting your lips

Your eyes roll in the back of your head, toes to curled as your slit tried to squeeze every last drop of cum

He pumps you full, his thrusts not stopping yet

"It's t-too much, ba~Fuck!" You cry as your own orgasm washes over you, but Jeff's not stopping fucking his cum into you

"Deeper," he murmurs like a prayer. "Just take me deeper..."

[xoxorealitygalore]

Trust and Believe V

summary: Keyshia and Joe had a seemingly perfect life together after marrying in 2010. However, as their careers grew, so did the strain on their relationship. When Joe cheats on Keyshia. The emotional fallout from the incident leaves their relationship hanging in the balance, with Keyshia questioning if they could ever recover from the betrayal.

Joe and Keyshia sat across from each other in the cozy, dimly lit therapy room. The quiet hum of the air conditioning was the only sound, and the tension between them felt palpable, even in this neutral space meant for healing. They had been to therapy a handful of times before, but today felt different. It was as if they were on the precipice of something—some breakthrough, some painful truth or realization.

The therapist, a middle-aged woman named Dr. Reynolds, sat across from them, her calm demeanor offering a quiet sense of reassurance. She had seen many couples come through her doors, some barely hanging on, others desperate for answers, and some simply unsure of where to start. Joe and Keyshia were somewhere in between.

Keyshia sat with her arms crossed tightly in front of her, her expression unreadable. Her eyes flicked between Joe and Dr. Reynolds, but her body language was tense—on guard, as if she were preparing herself for something that might hurt. Joe, on the other hand, leaned back slightly on the couch, looking more relaxed but with an undercurrent of nervousness. His fingers tapped lightly on his thigh as he glanced at Keyshia, a small furrow in his brow.

Keyshia spoke first. Her voice, though calm, carried the weight of a lifetime of unspoken emotions.

“It’s hard,” she began, her voice steady but tinged with frustration. “It’s really hard, Dr. Reynolds. I feel like I’m fighting a battle inside myself every day. Every time I get upset, every time something triggers me, my insides just… burn up. I feel like I’m going crazy, like I’m about to lose control. But I’ve learned to control it. I’ve learned not to crash out, not to let it all explode. And that’s been tough. Really tough.”

Dr. Reynolds nodded, acknowledging the depth of what Keyshia was expressing. She understood that emotions like the ones Keyshia was describing weren’t easily managed, and that the act of controlling one’s own emotional responses took more than just willpower—it took self-awareness, time, and effort. Keyshia wasn’t just talking about being angry or upset; she was describing the intense, gut-wrenching, almost uncontrollable feelings that came from years of emotional turmoil.

Joe shifted in his seat, looking down for a moment before meeting Keyshia’s eyes. There was a mix of regret and guilt in his gaze. He knew he had played a part in bringing them to this place, and the weight of that was heavy on his heart. He had cheated on Keyshia, and now they were here, trying to piece together the fragments of their broken relationship.

“I didn’t make it easy for you,” Joe said quietly, his voice full of regret. “I’ve hurt you. I know I’ve hurt you. And I’m sorry.”

Keyshia let out a small, almost dismissive laugh. It wasn’t a laugh of amusement, but more of a laugh born out of frustration. Her eyes narrowed, and for a moment, she looked away from him, her jaw clenched. She was tired of hearing the same apologies. She had heard them countless times before, each one seeming more like an empty gesture than a true sign of remorse.

“I’m tired of hearing that, Joe,” Keyshia said, her voice low but firm. “I’m tired of hearing you say sorry and not understanding why it even happened in the first place. You don’t get to just apologize and think that fixes everything. I need to understand why. I need to know why you cheated. What happened? Where did we go wrong?”

Her words hung in the air, sharp and raw. Joe's eyes dropped once more, as if he were searching for the right words, for an answer that could satisfy the pain and confusion in her voice. He didn’t have an immediate answer, not one that felt worthy of her pain, but he knew he had to try.

"I… I don’t know," he said slowly, as if the admission pained him. "I think I was selfish. I didn’t think about how my actions would affect you, or how they would affect us. I wasn’t thinking about the relationship, I was thinking about myself. I don’t want to make excuses, but I know I screwed up. I hurt you, and I can’t take that back. But what I can do is try to be better now. And I don’t know if that’s enough, but it’s all I have."

Keyshia was quiet for a moment, processing his words. Her expression softened, but the pain was still evident in her eyes. The trust that had once been a solid foundation between them had been shattered, and rebuilding it seemed like an impossible task.

Dr. Reynolds, sensing the tension between them, decided to step in gently.

"It’s clear that both of you are carrying a lot of pain," she said, her voice calm and steady. "And it’s also clear that Keyshia has made significant progress in managing her emotions. But managing emotions doesn’t mean they go away, Keyshia. You’ve been working hard to control how you respond, but it’s important to also understand where those emotions come from and what they mean. And Joe, you’re carrying your own guilt. The question now is how you both move forward from here."

Keyshia nodded, her arms still tightly crossed. She could feel the weight of her emotions building up inside her, but she had learned over the years how to keep them at bay. Still, there was a part of her that wanted to scream, to shout at Joe for everything that had gone wrong. She wanted him to understand just how deep the hurt went, just how much she had to fight every day not to let that hurt control her. But she didn’t want to explode again. She didn’t want to crash out.

“I’ve been doing better, but it’s still hard,” Keyshia admitted, her voice quiet but honest. “Sometimes I just want to lose control. Sometimes I just want to scream at you, at everything. But I know that won’t help. It won’t fix anything. But I don’t know how to stop feeling the way I do.”

Joe looked at her, his heart aching. He could see the inner turmoil she was going through, the battle she fought every day to keep her emotions in check. And he knew, deep down, that he had been the catalyst for so much of that pain.

“I get it,” he said softly. “I really do. And I’m sorry. I don’t want to make it harder for you, Keyshia. I want to be better. I want to fix this, but I know it’s going to take time. And I know I can’t just tell you it’s going to be okay. I have to show you.”

Keyshia’s eyes softened slightly, but there was still a guardedness to her expression. She wasn’t ready to fully let her guard down. Not yet. Not after everything that had happened. But she appreciated that Joe was at least acknowledging her pain and the effort she was putting into holding everything together.

Dr. Reynolds spoke again, guiding them back to the heart of the issue.

“Keyshia, it seems like you’ve made a lot of progress in understanding and managing your emotions,” she said. “But you’ve also been through a lot. You’re not just controlling your reactions; you’re trying to make sense of them, and that’s a crucial part of healing. Joe, you’ve acknowledged your mistakes. The next step is to explore how you both can begin to rebuild trust and communication.”

Keyshia nodded, a quiet sigh escaping her lips. "I just don't understand how things went wrong. How did we get here? I want to understand how we got to this point so that I can make sense of it. I don’t want to keep feeling this way, but it’s hard when I feel like there’s so much left unanswered.”

Joe glanced at her, his heart heavy with the weight of her words. He wished he could explain everything, wished he could give her the answers she was desperately searching for. But the truth was, he wasn’t sure himself. He didn’t know when or how things had started to unravel. He had been selfish, disconnected, and unable to see how his actions affected the person he loved most.

“I don’t have all the answers, Keyshia,” he said softly. “But I’m willing to figure it out with you. If you’re willing to try. I can’t promise that things will be perfect, but I can promise that I’m going to work every day to be the person you deserve.”

The room fell into a quiet stillness as the words hung in the air. Joe's vulnerability, his willingness to admit his faults and face the consequences of his actions, was a step toward healing. But it was only one step. The journey ahead would be long, full of hard conversations, raw emotions, and painful revelations.

Keyshia looked at Joe, her eyes searching his face for something—some sign that he truly meant it, that he was ready to do the hard work that rebuilding trust required. She didn’t know if she could fully trust him again, not yet, but there was a small part of her that felt the smallest flicker of hope.

“I don’t know if I can ever forgive you completely,” she said softly, her voice trembling slightly. “But I’m willing to try. For us. For me.”

And in that moment, both Joe and Keyshia knew that while the road ahead would be difficult, it was the only path worth walking. Together.

[otomiyaa]

Day 30: Magic

Frieren x Himmel | Nim's Lovely Tickletober

Word Count: 700

Collab with @dokidoki-muffin! [Link to artwork]

It was nothing new of course, but Himmel couldn't help himself and secretly enjoyed it every single time: Frieren's chaotic encounters with mimics.

The elven mage's legs were kicking wildly as she tried to free herself from the heavy fake chest she got caught in this time, causing Himmel to rub his lips as if that could hide the smile on his face.

"Again... Alright. This might take a while. I'll explore the next room in advance," they heard Heiter say behind them. Eisen just followed the priest without a word, leaving Himmel alone with Frieren and her struggles.

Turning back around, beholding the elf’s lazy dangling legs, something crossed Himmel's mind. Something he had thought of already a couple of mimic accidents before this one. The blue-haired hero looked around, realizing this was actually the perfect opportunity.

"Frieren?" He took a step closer to stand by her side. Frieren stopped struggling, not seeming to be in that much of a rush to get herself out.

"Yes?" she chirped. Himmel chuckled.

"There's something I've been wanting to share with you. Actually, I've picked up a trick that can help you free yourself from mimics," he explained, trying hard to contain his anticipation.

Frieren hummed. "A trick? Like... magic?"

"Well… You could say that." Not really, but if she was buying it, he was more than happy to play.

"Hm... I haven't heard of such a spell. You learned about it?"

She sounded surprised and curious, making Himmel wonder if Frieren was really this easy to prank. Then again, this was the elf who got stuck in a mimic for the umpteenth time, because of her blind lust for discovering new spells.

"Yes. It went something like this," Himmel elaborated, as he carefully knelt down by Frieren's side.

"If you happen to find yourself in a pickle..." Himmel slowly took off Frieren's boot, observing her with a side-eye, but she didn't even seem to question it.

"...we can solve it... with a tickle!"

Proud of his homemade spell improvisation, Himmel immediately began to scribble his fingers over Frieren's foot. For a good second she didn't respond, as if she needed a moment to process those words and sensations. But all of a sudden, loud giggles could be heard from within the chest, and she started to kick and squirm.

"Hehehey!!! That's no mahahagic at ahahall!" the elf squeaked in surprise.

No kidding! Himmel smiled fondly and continued his tickly assault.

"Are you sure? Seems quite magical to me," the hero stated innocently while admiring Frieren's sweet bubbly laughter. It was so unlike her to laugh like this, and it was like music to his ears.

"Can you get out now?" he asked while she continued to giggle uncontrollably.

"Nohoho!"

"Then we will need to try harder~" Himmel reached for her other foot and took off that boot as well. He grabbed her ankle and tickled her sole with some more happy scribbles before wiggling his fingers into her toes, causing the mage to squeal.

"Heeeehehehey! Dohohon't!"

At last, Frieren's struggling was actually effective and Himmel could see her slowly re-emerge from the mimic trap.

"Almost there," Himmel sang, smirking at the sight of some new target space.

Quickly letting go of her foot, he leaned forward to give Frieren's sides some gentle squeezes.

"WOHAHA!"

With a surprisingly loud roar, Frieren finally popped out of the mimic and fell backwards… Right on top of Himmel.

Blushing like crazy at their sudden close proximity, Himmel could hear her wheezy breaths and feel her movements as she squirmed above him.

"That was the worst magic ever," Frieren pouted while she clumsily crawled off him, scrambling about on the dungeon ground to put her boots back on.

Himmel hurried to get on his feet before she did, and he held out his hand to help her up.

"But it did work," Himmel claimed victoriously.

Frieren looked up at him with a sigh, her cheeks still painted with a cute rosy color, and sparkles in her eyes.

She smiled and grabbed his hand.

"Well… That's true. I'll forgive you for now," she declared, but it was plain obvious how flustered she was, going the other way after a swift turn.

"Now where did those other two go? Thanks a lot for leaving me behind~" the elf mage murmured, sounding all shy and embarrassed.

Hehe. Himmel smirked and followed after her.

He indeed hoped she did forgive him, for he would actually love to do that again...

[fourthavecafe]

sukuna discovering you’re ticklish

Sukuna had always found humans amusing in their fragility, their emotions, their weakness. But you? You were something else entirely. You were small, fragile and yet somehow, he never broke you despite the power he held. He had always used you like a toy, tossing you around with little care but you never seemed to mind. You'd stick by his side regardless, laughing or smiling even when he was at his coldest.

Tonight, however, Sukuna stumbled upon something entirely new.

It started innocently enough. His large, clawed hand rested on your stomach, half out of boredom, half because he enjoyed the way you tensed under his touch. You had always been so reactive-wide-eyed and flustered by his every move. He thought it was adorable in a way he didn't want to admit.

But then something strange happened. His fingers pressed down a bit harder, squeezing the soft flesh of your tummy and you let out a sound he hadn't heard from you before.

A laugh.

At first, Sukuna paused, confused. His crimson eyes narrowed, staring down at you like you had just performed some sort of magic trick. His grip hadn't been hard, certainly not enough to hurt you but the way you had burst into laughter-completely involuntary-caught him off guard.

"What was that?" His voice was cold, but there was a hint of curiosity there, a rare emotion for him. He squeezed again, his fingers digging into your side experimentally.

This time, you squirmed, another burst of laughter escaping you, your body shaking as you tried to push his hand away. "S-Sukuna! Stop! That tickles!"

“Tickles?” Sukuna tilted his head, watching you with a mixture of confusion and fascination.

Tickling. It was a concept entirely foreign to him but the way your body reacted was... intriguing. A small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he pressed down again, this time on purpose.

You erupted into laughter again, your body jerking and twisting under his hand. "p-Please! S-Stop!"

But Sukuna didn't stop. If anything, his interest grew.

His other hand came down, prodding your side with more intent, his long fingers exploring your skin with an almost clinical precision. It was as though you had suddenly become an object of study, a toy for him to play with.

"What's the matter? Can't handle this?" he asked, his voice cold and taunting. He continued to tickle you without a shred of empathy, completely unfazed by your desperate giggles and pleas. Your body was thrashing now, twisting and curling in an attempt to escape his unrelenting hands.

Your face turned red, laughter pouring from you uncontrollably as Sukuna's fingers roamed over your ribs, down to your waist and back to your stomach. He poked, squeezed and pressed all while watching your reaction with an almost scientific interest.

"Why are you laughing? I'm not doing anything funny" he said, genuinely confused but thoroughly entertained. For him, this was a new discovery-something he had never experienced before. The fact that simply touching you in certain spots could result in such a dramatic reaction fascinated him.

Your words were barely coherent between your laughter. "Sukuna! I-I can't-stop! | can't breathe!"

But Sukuna was unrelenting, pushing you further. He had no idea why your body was becoming limp, why your strength was draining away with every burst of laughter, but it intrigued him. You weren't resisting anymore, only trying to squirm away weakly, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you laughed uncontrollably.

"You're so weak" he said, his voice cold as he gave your side one last squeeze.

"Humans are ridiculous." He was more amused by how helpless you were, confused that something so simple could reduce you to a writhing, laughing mess beneath him.

Finally, Sukuna stopped, his hands withdrawing from your body as he looked down at you. You were panting, your face flushed and your body completely spent. It was clear you were utterly exhausted from the tickling, your limbs limp, and your breath coming in shallow bursts.

Sukuna's eyes lingered on you for a moment, his expression unreadable. He still didn't fully understand why humans reacted this way, why something as insignificant as his hands on your skin could cause such a reaction. But he didn't hate it.

He leaned down, his face close to yours as he studied your expression. "You're still alive, aren't you?" he teased, though his voice lacked the usual venom. He had seen you in so many different states-happy, scared, shy—but this? This was something new.

You nodded weakly, your body still trembling slightly from the aftershocks of laughter. "Y-Yeah." you managed to gasp out, though you were still catching your breath.

Sukuna's lips curled into a smirk, his fingers twitching like he was tempted to tickle you again. "Pathetic. But amusing." He straightened up, looking down at you with a mixture of satisfaction and mild curiosity. "I'll have to experiment with this... tickling thing more."

And with that, he left you lying there, still recovering, completely at his mercy, while he walked away, still trying to comprehend the strange concept of human ticklishness.

[benijbol]

✣ QUICKIE

⊹ A/N; started uni and subconsciously picked up writing again, by the end of the week this is what i put together. I NEED TO BE CHAINED TO A POLE OR SOMETHING.

⊹ WARNINGS; smut (18+), oral (m receiving), hand job (m receiving), roleplay(?), modern AU.

⊹ WC; 1298

=͟͟͞͞ ✧

“Didn’t know I signed up for an anatomy lesson,” Davos muttered, voice thick with amusement and barely suppressed impatience, his eyes watching the hand around his cock with too much focus for it to be casual.

Your fingers, slick with spit, ran teasingly up the thick vein on the underside, squeezing just enough at the base to make him hiss through his teeth. “Shut up, Professor,” you drawled sarcastically, your own grin twitching on the edge of your lips, “Trying to make sure I get a passing grade.”

He barked out a laugh, short but loud, head tipped back against the worn-out couch you’d both collapsed on earlier, a thick sheen of sweat making the light dusting of dark hair at his temple stick to his skin. His hair always got messier when he was turned on, and it didn’t help that you liked to pull it when he got mouthy.

“Passing?” he snorted, hips jerking forward into your fist, unable to keep still, “If this is the exam, you’re aiming for f-uckin’ honors.” His voice cracked halfway through the curse, a throaty groan replacing the rest as your thumb swiped over the tip of his cock, gathering the precum that was dripping steadily now.

“Is that right?” You leaned forward, mouth following the path your hand had just taken, and gave the flushed head a slow lick, relishing the sharp intake of breath from Davos. His leg twitched beneath you, trying and failing not to push his hips into your mouth.

He always had a filthy mouth—talking big and loud like he was king of the world, especially when his cock was in your hand or mouth. His chest rose and fell erratically, trying to keep up with whatever rhythm you were working him over with, a half-feral sound rumbling out of him.

He was loud as hell, and impossible to shut up, but right now, that big mouth was working overtime to hold in the noises spilling out of him, his lips curling into a half-grimace as he bit down on a groan.

“Go on,” you hummed, lips brushing the head of his cock, breath hot and teasing as you tightened your grip. “Tell me more, Professor. I’m sure you’ve got a whole lecture prepped.”

“Y-yeah?” His voice cracked again, louder this time, chest heaving. “Yeah? How about I—shit—how about I lecture you on how much you love my cock? How’s that for a fuckin’ syllabus?”

You snorted against him, sucking harder this time, your hand moving in long, slow strokes, dragging it out just to watch him fall apart. His legs had spread out wide at this point, one arm thrown back against the armrest, and his head lolled to the side, eyes half-lidded with lust. The other hand? Gripping your hair like it was the only thing anchoring him to this world. “Tease.”

“You sound so fucking desperate,” you muttered, tightening your hand just as you took more of him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks out and letting him feel the wet heat of your throat.

His response was instant. A loud, broken groan that echoed off the shitty apartment walls, hips bucking uncontrollably as you finally stopped teasing him and really went for it. His cock, already rock hard, twitched in your mouth as he fought to keep his composure. 

Spoiler alert: He was doing a shit job of it.

“I—fucking hell—you’re the desperate one. Look at you. Got my cock in your mouth and you’re—ahh—still running that smart-ass mouth.”

You moaned around him, sending vibrations through his cock that had him cursing in response, the sound raw and guttural. His thighs trembled beneath you, muscles tense and flexing with every desperate movement, every inch of his body working toward the inevitable.

But you weren’t done with him yet. Oh no. This wasn’t some quick blowjob behind closed doors in the library stacks (not that you hadn’t done that before). 

Davos' head was thrown back again, eyes squeezed shut tight as you bobbed your head up and down, taking him deeper every time, your tongue working him over while your hand stroked whatever you couldn’t fit into your mouth. The sound of your slick movements and his ragged breathing filled the room, mixing with the occasional half-gasped curse as he fought to keep himself from just straight-up losing it.

“Hnnf—you, fuck—” His hand gripped tighter in your hair, pulling a little too hard, but it was all part of the fun. His cock throbbed in your mouth, and you knew he was close, could feel the way his whole body had started to tense up. You squeezed his balls gently, making him let out another loud moan, his control hanging by a thread.

Pulling back just enough to catch your breath, you pumped him lazily with your hand, watching the way his mouth opened and closed like he was trying to form words, but none of them made it out. “Cat got your tongue?” you teased, grinning at the way he squirmed under you.

“Fuck off,” he half-growled, half-laughed, thrusting into your hand again, clearly past the point of caring about anything other than the finish line. “Just—f-fuckin’ finish me off.”

You raised an eyebrow at him but obliged, lips sliding over his length once more, your hand matching the pace as you picked up speed, sucking him off in earnest now. His hips jerked with every stroke, that constant loudness getting even more obscene as he neared the edge.

“Fuck—you’re gonna make me—ah, shit, I’m close, I’m—” The rest of his sentence dissolved into a string of swears, and then, with a final moan that echoed through the room, his whole body tensed up as he came. His cock pulsed in your mouth, and you swallowed everything he gave you, savoring the taste as you stroked him through it, making sure to draw out every last drop.

You kept going, even when he was done, until he was twitching and gasping, the oversensitivity making him shudder beneath you. “Goddamn,” he muttered, voice hoarse and ragged, his chest still heaving, “I think I'm dying.”

Pulling away with one last playful lick, you wiped the back of your hand across your mouth, looking up at him with a smirk. “If you die, at least you’ll die happy.”

“Happy?” He let out a breathless laugh, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his arm, the muscles in his bicep flexing in a way that was definitely going to keep your attention for the rest of the day. “Happy doesn’t even fucking cover it. I’m half-dead, but yeah, pretty goddamn happy.”

You stretched out beside him, the shitty couch springs squeaking in protest, but you didn’t care. It was too hot, and you were too tired to move, so you just lay there, legs tangled together, feeling the rise and fall of his chest as he caught his breath. His hand came up to lazily run through your hair, tugging gently at the roots in that way you both knew you liked.

“You still owe me dinner,” you said after a minute, nudging him with your elbow.

He groaned. “I just let you suck me off for a good half hour, and you’re still thinking about food?”

“I’m always thinking about food. Besides, you’re the one who brought up that fancy sushi place last week. I’m just holding you to your word.” You grinned up at him, unbothered by his mock irritation.

Davos huffed, turning his head to look down at you, his crooked nose scrunching up slightly. “How about I just order us pizza and call it even?”

You raised an eyebrow. “You think I’m gonna let you get away with that?”

“You just swallowed my—”

“That’s not the same thing!”

[everettswritings]

hey can you do a Smoke-cheese cookie and Golden-cheese cookie tickle fic? please Lee Smoked and Ler Golden? more cheese please

Of course! They’re so silly anyways, I don’t have the heart to say no. Especially since I want to tickle Smoked Cheese so bad. (Kink/NSFW accounts DNI!)

When the dust settled from the Radiant Queen’s epic battle against the beast known as Burning Spice Cookie, there was little time to waste! The moment that things were all calm once more, it was straight to work for both Golden Cheese Cookie and Smoked Cheese Cookie. Back in the vast desert, in the cavern where the golden sovereign ran the simulation for her kingdom after it was destroyed, the two where making themselves busy with the task of restoring the soulcheeses into the cookies they once belonged to. The process would be a little lengthy to get everything just right, but it would be worth it when the kingdom would be returned to it’s former glory!

Smoked Cheese Cookie was watching the little graph on one of the machines, his eyes squinting to analyze every little dip and spike. Golden Cheese Cookie was leaning against one of the cave walls and reading some of the charts that had printed out, her eyes were growing tired and she was starting to feel a little bored; they were already on course, so a break wouldn’t hurt, right? She looked at her general, he seemed so focus… so ripe for a surprise attack! She grinned to herself as she tiptoed up behind him, taking advantage of how absorbed he was in his task.

Eek!

Smoked Cheese Cookie squeaked with surprise and started laughing as he felt Her Majesty’s fingertips tracing over his ribs roughly. Now, of all times? Seriously?

“My Quehehehehen! Hahahaha!” He was trying so hard to fight it off, but it was a Sisyphus task, he would be laughing uncontrollably in mere seconds. “Y-You’re such a- hahahaha- chihihild! Hahaha!” The general finally got out, immediately succumbing to his own laughter as Golden Cheese Cookie grinned smugly “Not my fault you aren’t wearing a shirt!”. She always said that whenever she did this. As if him wearing a shirt would stop her!

She moved up to Smoked Cheese Cookie’s armpits, scribbling around without any real sense of rhythm or direction. He started laughing harder and instinctively shut his arms down, foolishly trapping wiggling fingers right against his dough. “Hahahahaha! Hahahaha! No, no, quit! HA- hahahaha!” Right as he said that, she doubled down and started tickling him even harder, causing him to stumble around and the both of them to come crashing down on the sandy floor beneath them. Golden Cheese Cookie immediately seized the opportunity, pinning her general beneath her and moving over to his tummy. She started pinching and tracing around his abs, causing him to let out a very out-of-character squeal and some more high pitched laughs “STAHP! HAHAHAHAHA! HAHAHAHA!” He demanded, but really he was in no position to be making demands right now.

Finally, somehow finding some strength, Smoked Cheese Cookie pulled himself away and put his hands up in defense. “Enough! No more, or else!” He threatened weakly, while Golden Cheese Cookie was getting closer and backing him into one of the walls, “Or else? That’s tough talk for someone with such a…” She paused, then leaped and started tickling his neck, “ticklish neck!”. On reflex, Smoked Cheese Cookie started scrunching up his neck and tossing his head around in all kinds of directions, laughing even harder than before. The neck! Always the neck! The sounds of the general’s laughter were bouncing off the wall, making him seem even louder than he actually was. The Queen was reveling in the noise with delight, a goofy smile was plastered on her face as she tickled him relentlessly.

Ding!

Oh, what do you know? The process is complete! Golden Cheese Cookie finally let go, allowing for Smoked Cheese Cookie to catch his breath. The poor bird’s face was red all over and his chest was heaving like he was just suffocated! “Oho, that face always entertains!” Her Radiance teased “I’m sure Mozzarella Cookie will be pleased to hear that you’re still so ticklish. It’ll be just like old times, eh?” She patted his head and stood up to tend to the machinery and bring Mozzarella Cookie back officially, leaving Smoked Cheese Cookie resting up against the wall and embarrassed out of his mind.

Yeah, old times, that was for sure. But still, he felt a little smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

End of fic! AHH! I LOVED WRITING THIS! Please, DevSis, add some kind of update that lets me tickle the cookies! I’m BEGGING! PLEASE! Anywho, yeah. Have a good one 🫶

[whoisneo404]

Kitchen accident part 2.

Summary: after what happened on the kitchen you decided to watch a movie, not knowing that you would have some ‘issues’ down there. You decide to go the bathroom to satisfy yourself but can’t seem to finish, frustrated you decide to ask Nick for help.

Tw: general nsfw. Cursing.

Notes: Reader is amab.

Note 2: someone requested this on my dms, i hope you enjoy it. i changed the prompt a bit, i hope you dont mind.

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.

A comedy movie was playing on the screen, I don’t know its name or what is it about, I really don’t care. I’m shifting and moving around every second, I feel restless. I look at Nick from time to time and he’s laughing and saying corny things like ‘’why would he do that?’’ and criticizing the characters decisions. I can’t stop thinking about what happened in the kitchen, I can’t stop staring at Nicks hands and neck, I feel bad but I can’t get this thought out of my head.

‘’I’m going to the bathroom. Give me a minute.’’ I say standing up and putting the pillow that was on my lap on the bed.

‘’Want me to pause the movie?’’ he looks at me, quickly grabbing the tv remote.

‘’No, it’s okay.’’ I say and rush to the bathroom and lock the door behind me. I hear the movie being muffled by the door. I let out a sigh, I see the bulge on my sleeping pants and let out a grunt, why am I like this? I’ll make this as quick as possible.

I slide down my pants and boxers just enough to be able to jerk off. I try to be fast so I can go back to watch the movie, I sniff on the shirt Nick gave me after he socked mine, it smells like him and it’s driving me crazy. But no matter what I do, I can’t seem to finish. Frustration grows on me, I try one last time but nothing happens, with disappointment and anger I let out a groan, I can’t do this anymore.

I hear knocking at the door. ‘’Everything good?’’ it’s Nick, fuck, why me?

‘’No. I mean, yes… I just… god, fuck this.’’ I reach out and unlock the door, pulling up my pants and boxers then opening the door. He looks me in the eyes, scanning the situation. ‘’Please, I can’t do it, help me.’’ I look away from him embarrassed and I see him walk closer to me.

‘’Help with what?’’ he was teasing, I could hear it in his voice, and I’m sure that by now he is well aware of the situation on my pants. I let out a sigh, my face was hot.

‘’Please, Nick. Help me with this.’’ I look down at myself and then up to him, he’s smirking.

‘’Okay, pretty boy. I’ll help you with that.’’ He grabs my waist softly pulling me into him and kissing my lips, it was sweet at first, romantic and tender. He guides us to the bed while we kiss, my knees hit the edge of the bed and I fall into it. Nick pushes me so I’m laying down, he gets on top of me and starts kissing me again, this time with more tongue it’s messy and I love it. Unconsciously I start rolling my hips against his, I feel him get hard against my clothed skin, and I need more.

His hands are wondering, exploring my body, they stop on my thighs rubbing them up and down. I squirm a bit and he starts to toy with the hem of my pants. ‘’Just take them off already’’ I slur out between kisses and he does, sliding them down painfully slow.

The cold hair hits my skin and he raises his shirt but I shake my head. ‘’I wanna keep it on.’’ He smiles and nods, kissing my stomach a and thighs a bit, biting down on them, leaving red marks here and there. I moan his name, I feel his breath closer and closer to my dick, but his lips never touch it, I squirm around, speaking non sense, almost begging him to please touch it. He leaves a kiss on it, and then puts it into his mouth.

‘’Shit.’’ I groan, one hand on his hair and the other on my face. He goes up and down, my back arches, I see him look up at me, I cover my eyes and throw my head back. I’m moaning and grunting uncontrollably. My head is dizzy with his smell, with his touches. I feel myself getting closer and closer, and he stops, his mouth no longer in my, one of his hands now are grabbing both of mine and putting them on top of my head.

He kisses me, and with the other hand grabs my dick pumping it up and down, faster and faster. I moan against his mouth, his big hands holding me down, making me go crazy. My eyes roll to the back of my skull and I let out a notoriously loud moan. My back touches the bed again, I feel the wetness on my stomach and Nick gives me one last sweet kiss.

‘’Wow, that was… you were amazing.’’ He whispers. ‘’Think I need you give you another of my shirts.’’

‘’Thanks.’’ I whisper.

‘’No needs to, I enjoyed this a lot. Maybe next time we can do more things.’’

‘’Next time?... I mean, yeah, that would be awesome.’’ I smile and he kisses my cheek.

‘’All right, I’m gonna go shower now.’’ He says and gets up walking slowly to the bathroom. ‘’I wouldn’t mind if someone follows me and showers with me. After all, I do have a problem that needs solving down here.’’

‘’Oh god, Nick shut up.’’ I cover my face and he laughs. ‘’give me a minute to catch my breath, I’ll be there.’’