#foreign films are fun

[bettinalevyisdetermined]

So... I know you don't like being called Tina.

But I still want to inform you that here in Norway there is a movie called Tina & Bettina 2 - the comeback, witch is a sequel to the movie called Tina & Bettina...

Wouldn't recommend these movies, but if are interested in watching something in a foreign language, and don't care about wasting time, I could recommend it.

The sequel I mean, haven't watched the first movie, but it came out a decade ago, sooo... Yeah...

Just a last heads up, it's bad, really bad, and it's on purpose like that.

Haha, that sounds really interesting! I'm quite fascinated by foreign movies and shows, the stories and characters are usually a lot better than the ones Hollywood produces! Or at least they're much less boring and predictable, since they're so outside my own culture. And I've seen my fair share of purposely bad movies, they can definitely be fun if you're in the right mood for that kind of thing.

And Tina is fine, btw! I have more of an issue with people calling me Betty than with Tina. Lol.

[qedmirage]

Saloum

Saloum is a fun little movie, excellent crime thriller tension. I really like the intro setting cards:

After that the film follows our mercenaries on the run as they're forced to land off-course, their plane sabotaged somehow. And the film goes from 0 to 60 real fast. As an example, not exhaustive, of what "the most suspicious dinner party on earth" looks like, here's their weird host Omar introducing a friend:

But this is a film from Shudder, and without spoiling anything, halfway through you get a shift to the kind of movie where people say things like this:

Honestly the first half is so good I want to see an entire movie of just that, the second half is good too! It just doesn't have the all gas no breaks tension fun of being a 90 minute thriller in 45.

[yesssssss-anime]

I seriously hope that Hollywood media just fails for a while so companies will finally realise how important their actors and writers are. I hope they come to see that ai can’t be used for everything. Also I find it funny how these companies think that we’re not going to support the strikers just because we won’t get some new Hollywood media for a while. I think they forgot that Hollywood isn’t the only place in the world creating amazing tv shows and movies. We have k-dramas, Thai-drama, anime, Tollywood and Bollywood movies. This isn’t the end of entertainment for us. If we don’t want to watch foreign media we still have old shows and movies that are great. I mean I can finally start watching those old Hollywood movies I’ve been planning to watch. So sure threaten us with the lack of media…we still having everything we need. The only person who’s in trouble because of the strikes is the goddamn companies. So screw you and have fun not making any money.

[nitrateglow]

Coming across the Italian dub of Wait Until Dark is a strange experience. Roat without a sing-songy east coast tough accent is so weird for me lol.

[vulcanhello]

anyone trying to argue fanfic is inherently better than the films, books, and other stories they originate from i just KNOW doesn’t actually watch movies or read or engage with anything outside their favorite ao3 tags

[izzy-b-hands]

i accidentally slept for another six hours

i think maybe i am actually sick since

that

and still feeling like ive been hit by a bus

the aching i had hoped would go away and maybe I'd wake up feeling better if i 'took a quick nap'

it was a nap alright

[cidnangarlond]

my pipe dream for someone to make miku and kaito sing "alexandra" from moscow does not believe in tears

[jellogram]

It's kind of wild that people defend Marvel as brainless or pure fun entertainment cuz like, bro that's a three hour movie that requires you to have seen 12 other 2-3 hour movies before you can enjoy it. Your movies are giving you homework. You have the patience of a god. My "pretentious snobby foreign film" is 98 minutes and it's full of sex and drugs and arguing. How tf am I the elitist here.

[pathologicalreid]

not that kind of movie | S.R.

movie night takes an interesting turn - for the better, definitely

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: smut (18+ mdni) content warnings: the movie in question is metropolis, fingering, soft dom!spencer, i really don't know that there's anything else, kissing, they probably fucked after this, very slightly proofread, if this is incoherent let's just pretend it is. word count: 1.45k a/n: just a fun little fic i typed out tonight. also chip taylor gif spotted. i'm so tired i have nothing else to say for myself.

If you were being entirely honest with yourself, you were struggling to keep your eyes open during the movie.

As a result of a very intense rock, paper, scissors game, Spencer had been the one to choose the movie that you watched tonight. The movie he had chosen just so happened to be in a foreign language – German – that your boyfriend was attempting to learn. Your lack of German comprehension combined with the black-and-white film put you in a rough spot, you were in serious danger of falling asleep on the couch.

Spencer wouldn’t hold it against you if you did happen to drift off, but it felt rude. He never fell asleep during any of your film selections, and just because you didn’t understand the content didn’t mean you couldn’t respect the cinematography of the old-timey dystopian. “Are you falling asleep?” He whispered, adjusting the blanket that had been tossed over the two of you so that you were fully covered.

Shaking your head stubbornly, “No, ‘m watching the movie,” you insisted, prying your eyes open to focus on the screen in front of you and trying to figure out who was Freder and who was Joh.

“Good, keep watching,” Spencer said softly before pulling at your legs, leaving them draped across his lap as his fingers ghosted over the waistband of your pajama shorts. He looked over at you and in the dark of the living room, you were grateful he couldn’t see the flush of your cheeks. “Watch the movie,” he murmured, moving to trail his fingers up your thigh.

Your breathing hitched as his hand stopped, and as he started to massage the inner part of your thigh, you let your head fall to the side. “You’re distracting me,” you protested, smiling despite yourself while his fingers moved closer and closer to your core.

He hummed in response, “I thought this could help you stay awake,” he offered knowingly.

“Can’t hurt to try,” you concurred happily, extremely content with the turn of events that your movie night had taken – even if Metropolis wasn’t that kind of movie. You sighed as Spencer’s fingers deftly nudged your shorts to the side, using his hand to rub you over the flimsy fabric of your underwear.

In your periphery, you watched Spencer turn his attention back to the movie, his lips moving as his brain translated the words as they came from the speakers.

Taking a deep breath, you looked back at the television, your brain was fuzzier than ever, but at least now you were enjoying yourself, “Spence,” you whimpered, wanting more of him.

To your chagrin, his movements slowed, “Shh, watch the movie,” he told you, “You have to pay attention, or I’ll stop.”

You groaned before turning your head, watching the fuzzy black and white screen as robots started to take over and you realized you had no idea what the plot of this film was, “Please don’t stop,” you breathed, gasping when his fingers pushed your panties off to the side. You considered offering to take your shorts and underwear off, but you were too afraid of him stopping to even bring it up.

The volume of the movie was barely loud enough to cover up the soft, breathy noises that came from you as Spencer trailed his index finger up your slit before settling his hand on you, the elastic of your panties keeping his hand close as he pressed his thumb to your clit. You bit your lip to keep quiet as he started to move his thumb in slow, tantalizing circles, a small chuckle coming from him as your hips bucked up involuntarily, “Poor baby,” he said, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Feels good,” you mumbled, trying to keep from closing your eyes and just focusing on the pleasure you were receiving. “More,” you beckoned, taking a chance and flickering your eyes over to where he was sitting. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was simply enraptured with the film instead of having some sort of anti-staring contest while playing with you on the couch.

Not making any move to change what he was doing, Spencer seemingly ignored you, “You’ll get there, angel. I’ll let you come in a bit.”

With the promise of an orgasm in your near future, you decided you could toughen out the remainder of the film. This would be true if he would do anything but drag his thumb in annoyingly slow circles around your clit.

Resigning yourself to another thirty minutes of torture, you focused back on the screen, where you had definitely missed an important plot point. You had no idea when they ended up underground, “Ah!” You said, clamping your hand over your mouth as Spencer had decided to slip his index finger inside of your cunt, “Fuck, Spence,” you said, voice muffled by your own palm.

“Uncover your mouth,” Spencer told you, too far away to move your hand on his own, “I like to listen to you.”

His words sent your stomach into a flurry of somersaults, only spurred on by the calculated movements of his finger as it slipped deeper into you, knuckle by knuckle, until your warm walls wholly enclosed his finger. “Jesus,” you breathed, moaning as his hand moved, slipping his digit in and out of you with ease.

A strained breath from your boyfriend told you that he was having a hard time holding himself back, but at some point, he had dedicated himself to dragging this out. “You’re doing so well, just keep watching,” he appeased, “the movie’s almost over.”

You weren’t entirely sure you believed him until he sunk his finger back into you, using his fingertip to swirl around your inner walls, hitting a spot that made your eyes roll into the back of your head. “Mm,” you whined, “that’s nice.”

“Yeah?” He asked knowingly, “You like letting me touch you on the couch? All splayed out and pretty for me?”

Not that you’d ever admit this to him, but you sometimes thought he could make you come just from his words alone. Of course, that information would not be used to your benefit, “Yes,” you answered, ignoring the way your cheeks flushed, “Yeah, baby.”

Spencer hummed and your breath caught in your throat as a second finger slipped inside of you, joining the other one in its crusade to bring you to an orgasm, “That was a good answer.” His words did nothing to slow your racing heart, any thought of the movie was a distant memory as all it did was provide a slight glow around the living room.

Afraid of finishing before the conclusion, you reached down and grabbed Spencer’s wrist as his fingers continued their taunting rhythm, but it felt so good, and he was taking such good care of you, that you couldn’t stop his ministrations.  

“Are you alright?” Spencer asked making note of the way your hand gripped his wrist, continuing his movements when you assured him you were okay, “Oh,” he murmured, voice dripping in mock pity, “Do you wanna come?”

You nodded despite the fact that he couldn’t see you, writhing on the couch as you mumbled an affirmation and gasping when his thumb returned to its home on your clit, resuming the slow circles from before and slowly driving you toward insanity as your orgasm built in your lower belly, “Spence, ‘m gonna…” your voice trailed off as he continued to touch you, the volume of the film rising with your moans.

Not allowing his movements to falter, Spencer focused more of his energy on you, “You can come, baby. It’s alright,” he said, watching you fall apart on his fingers as he rambled on, “There you go, honey.” His fingers slowed to a stop as you caught your breath, just for it to hitch again as his fingers withdrew from your wet heat.

As the world came back into tune, you pulled yourself up to a sitting position and looked at the now black screen. Humming, you shifted over to Spencer, settling yourself in his lap, one knee on each side of him, you tilted your head to the side and smiled at him.

“Did you like the movie?” He whispered, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before moving back.

You nodded, leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth, trailing a line of kisses along his jaw line, “One of my favorites,” you murmured against the soft skin of his neck.

Spencer laughed softly at your answer, “Yeah? What was your favorite part?”

Grinning in the dark, you moved your lips up to his ear, “The end.”

[homunculus-argument]

Honestly it would be so fun to see a show that throws characters from the cliché standard European fantasy setting and characters from Asian fantasy setting into the same story. Specifically in a way where both sides are depicted faithfully to their respective cultures, written by people familiar with the source material. Imagine throwing Boromir into a wuxia film or Geralt of Rivia into fantasy-equivalent Joseon.

All tropes played straight and clashing into each other - language barrier optional, depending on which option is funnier. One side going "look at my awesome sword, I could kill a dragon with this" to be responded with "that's fucked up, why would you even want to do that."

I don't know what kind of a plot framework this would even work with, I just think it would be funny to see. One side going "wow the people of this strange land sure have mysterious ways and strange taboos", and the other side going "your highness your pet foreigners are fucking feral. They're doing things."

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

James Stewart (It's a Wonderful Life, The Philadelphia Story, Mr. Smith Goes to Washington)—the thing about Jimmy Stewart is that for a weird-enough looking guy, he is yet somehow SO hot and SO believable, ALWAYS. He always plays the same person—he's always, well, Jimmy Stewart—yet that person can be a murderer, a dark cynic, a naive idealist, the boy next door or an old man who knows better, and every one of those is hot. I would jump his bones in a heartbeat

Toshiro Mifune (Rashumon, Seven Samurai, Grand Prix, Stray Dog)—i love and respect my boi tab hunter (rest in peace you beautiful, beautiful man ❤️), but after i watched like 12 of his movies in a row on tcm last year, i ALSO love and respect toshiro mifune, son of a literal actual hatamoto’s (a high-ranking samurai) daughter, also very possibly related to the best judokan EVER, AND, he’s the guy who SHOULD have been obi-wan kenobi. the fact that he’s ALSO hot as hell just adds to his appeal.

This is round 4 of the bracket. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage man.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

James Stewart propaganda:

"Ough I saw him first in It's A Wonderful Life, where he is very charming as a suicidal family man being absolutely crushed by capitalism. But then. The Philadelphia Story, in my opinion, should get the same kind of press The Mummy does for being a bisexual dream. Now I'm not really bi (not into women) and it's honestly up for debate whether i'm attracted to men or not, but COME ON!! The movie stars James Stewart as well as Cary Grant and Katharine Hepburn (and Ruth Hussey). Stewart plays a common working man, a journalist, to contrast with Grant's character, who is mega-rich. He is scrappy and hates rich people. Hot! They have a whole scene together where he's super drunk and being really physical with his acting, which I love because he is kinda wet noodle shaped. Hot! He carries Hepburn in his arms while singing Somewhere Over The Rainbow. Hot! He gets punched in the face by Cary Grant. Hot!!! In The Man Who Shot Liberty Valence, we get to see him portray an alternative type of masculinity, opposite John Wayne doing John Wayne. He is even more wet noodle-y, to put emphasis on his incompatibility with the rugged masculinity of the cow-boy, he wears an apron for a lot of the film, again, to blur his masculinity, and he gets shot. Hot! Also he's older here, if that's your thing. Long story short: He's giving librarian chic and The Philadelphia Story made me want to be poly."

“Here he is next to Grant, in what I believe to be a promotional shot for The Philadelphia Story. Please don’t get distracted by Grant (or do, i’m submitting him next).”

“He’s a nice guy and a good guy and deserves all the happiness and joy ever! Classic boy next door/class president kid that everyone loves for real. Stand-up for the Little Guy vibes. With a charming fun side!!”

Toshiro Mifune propaganda:

"In addition, he spoke fluent mandarin and every time he was casted in foreign films, he said his lines in the language of the movie (although they ended up dubbing him. He wasn’t happy about it though).”

Submitted: this gifset

Also submitted: this video (yes, that one)

"Crucial Toshiro Mifune propaganda: THOSE LEGS."

"That is hella muscle. Go watch The Hidden Fortress, aka Star Wars A New Hope. His thighs deserve an award."

[mikelogan]

TJ MIKELOGAN's HALLOWEEN 2024 EVENT

RULES:

Use the tag #USERTJ to share your creations (and so I can reblog them)

Include "TJ MIKELOGAN's HALLOWEEN 2024 EVENT" + that day's prompt in your caption

Reblog this post

THINGS TO KNOW:

This event is open to anyone who wants to participate – gifmakers, editors, etc. – and you do not have to be following me if you don’t want to! Create gifsets, graphics, moodboards, whatever you enjoy!

You can do as many or as few prompts as you want! This is supposed to be fun, so no need to put unnecessary pressure on yourself.

Interpret the prompts however you see fit; stick to them as loosely or as rigidly as you want! If you have any questions, don't hesitate to send me an ask or DM!

When I reblog your creations, I will tag them as halloween24event and I will tag mine as *halloween24

Make sure to check out the #USERTJ tag as well so you can see what everyone else is coming up with and share what they’ve created! Even if you’re not participating in the event yourself, please support creators by REBLOGGING!

PROMPTS:

DAY 1: Your go-to Halloween movie DAY 2: Colors – orange and black DAY 3: Foreign horror DAY 4: Classic horror (pre-2000s) DAY 5: Villains DAY 6: Horror parallels  DAY 7: Vampires DAY 8: Costumes and makeup DAY 9: Horror movie soundtracks DAY 10: Animation DAY 11: Obscure horror DAY 12: Newer horror (2000-2010) DAY 13: Horror television DAY 14: Horror tropes DAY 15: Halloween episodes/specials DAY 16: Colors – purple and green DAY 17: POC in horror DAY 18: Spooky musicals DAY 19: Horror remakes DAY 20: Quotes DAY 21: Make it horror DAY 22: LGBT+ horror DAY 23: Modern horror (2010-2024) DAY 24: Horror sequels DAY 25: Final girls DAY 26: Colors - black & white DAY 27: Period (historical) horror DAY 28: Halloween nostalgia  DAY 29: Horror film that scared you the most  DAY 30: Favorite horror movie DAY 31: Wildcard – your choice

last year's event post + creations

gif frame/border can be found here by @raccoonscity

Below the cut, I’m tagging those who reblogged my original poll regarding this event and were either interested in participating or signal boosting, those who participated last year, as well as some moots who’ve expressed interest in all things Halloween and horror. Regardless of why you were tagged, please don't feel obligated!

@kizzyedgelll @scarecrowmax @vinmauro @sidprescot @showyoumyfavoriteobsession

@thepunkpanther @idlewarning @3rdboywonder @hollytanaka @rhcenyra

@mvthr @taiturner @stuckinthedeadlights @chappelroans @maybethistimemegz

@katieskrsgard @charmedslayer @marionsravenwoods @kvtnisseverdeen @usertiff

@sapphic-girls @elssbethtascioni @esmecarmona @maxinesminx @maxanor

@magicaplin @miwtual @scullys-scalpel @sculien @muldxr

@angelamcss @finnickodaiir @ianmckellen @cowboykeery @laurabenanti

@chaoticroad @muldery @kizzyedgelll @leodanbrock @anyataylorjoys

[morbidlcve]

loml.

pairings: natasha x reader

cw: mentions of death, mental health, red room.. i think that's it?

word count: 3.9k!

(based off the song loml by taylor swift)

summary: Yours and Natasha’s life all the way up to endgame

The first time you two met, you knew that she was the one for you. Her rare smile had the power to light up the room. You were another Hill, coming to drop Maria’s keys off for her after borrowing her car to move some furniture into your new apartment on 6th Street. You had been arguing with the guard outside the building, who wasn’t entirely convinced you were related to the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. 

“Hey, Maria needs her keys; she needs to go run some errands for Fury”, you heard a voice call to you, opening the door. Her red hair was the first thing you noticed about her, and it quickly became your favourite thing about her: the styles in which she wears it, the softness of the strands and the freedom it shows she has. “Thank you”, you mutter to her, entering the building and leaving a gagged guard at the doorway.

Who’s gonna stop us from waltzing back into rekindled flames?

If we know the steps anyway.  

“I’m Natasha,” she tells you, pressing the elevator button to take you up to your sister. “ Y/N,” you say, smiling softly. You were taken instantly; you wanted to know more; you needed to know more. The universe seemed to be on your side that day because Natasha soon asked you for coffee, to which you stuttered an embarrassing confirmation, which made her smile fondly. 

A month later, after little dates and nights together at your apartment, you were invited to the tower to watch a film with Natasha and have dinner with her family. Things went well; you instantly connected with the thunder god. He was silly and made you laugh, but he also seemed more than just the fun guy everyone seemed to know. Everyone was taken by you and asked you questions about your work, where you were from and what your childhood was like; you answered them all. 

Natasha watched you interact with the people she called family, and she swore to love you forever from then on. 

We embroidered the memories of the time I was away, stitching, “We were just kids, babe.”

I said, “I don’t mind, it takes time.”

A few years had passed, and they were the best years of your life; sure, there were ups and downs, but that was the beauty of it; you could recognise the good bits all the more. Natasha gave you a run for your money, scaring you to death every time she would come home with a new injury, but you would tend to her, and she would let all the details slip, the things that keep her awake at night, the failures, the successes, everything. It took time to bring 

Natasha out of her shell to talk to you about these topics, and when she did, she didn’t even feel fear in telling you; knowing you like she did, you would just accept her for who she is and tell her that was who she was and she didn’t know anything else. You kissed away her insecurities when they crept up on her in the middle of the night, without fail, you held her when she returned home from a rough mission, handling her with so much care that felt so foreign to her. 

I thought I was better safe than starry-eyed,

I felt aglow, like this, 

never before and never since.

Natasha was the sweetest soul you had ever encountered. She always weighed her words in her head before saying them aloud, always knew if something was the matter, and didn’t push you to talk about it. 

She would wait, do whatever you needed or wanted, and wait for you to make your problem hers, too. She would hold you so close as you did, kissing your tears away, reassuring you with every fibre of her being. She was so gentle, and it made you wonder what kind of a person does it make her to become more than she was ever meant to be. How much strength she truly has. 

If you know it in one glimpse, it's legendary. 

You and I go from one kiss to getting married.

It took three years of loving Natasha to finally promise yourself to her forever. There were tears and so much love that day you could recall it like the back of your hand. You couldn't remember your life without Natasha; she had very quickly become the centre of your universe. 

Each day you woke up beside her, you found yourself thanking the universe for allowing you to live to see another day, another day you get to share your love, issues, and tears with her. 

Still alive, killing time at the cemetery

Never quite buried.  

In your suit and tie, in the nick of time. 

You lowdown boy, you stand-up guy.

Then Natasha’s world came crashing down; the Avengers were fighting, she had to run away, you being left at home, countless sleepless nights, frightened for her life and what she was doing, if she was hurt, or worse? 

You often heard from her, whether that was a brief message or a Facetime call when she settled down in her trailer rewatching her favourite films. Those moments, you felt at some ease, but being unable to physically touch her hurt more than you could ever have thought it could. She was telling you that Yelena was alive, and she had got out, and you started crying, which made her cry; you heard all about her and the time she spent with her in Ohio, and you were glad she finally broke away from that god-forsaken place.

Initially, Natasha blamed herself for leaving her there when she broke away for the first time; then, she could quite bring herself to find her after killing Dreykov and his daughter to portray her loyalty to S.H.E.I.L.D.

You holy ghost, you told me i’m the love of your life,

About a million times.

A few weeks later, she found out he was alive. You have never heard her sound so heartbroken, her heavy gasps for breath, the sure constant fall of tears she let herself shed for all the girls that had to continue through the cycle. You were rendered speechless, listening to her tell you about everything that was going on, silent tears streaming down your face at her situation. She didn’t want your sympathy; you knew that- she was telling you so you knew what you would be greeted with when she got home. 

You listened, taking it all in, trying your best to be the weight she could lean on, but you were crumbling, too. You couldn’t even fathom what she felt at that moment. She told you she loved you and that she would be home soon. 

Five weeks later, Natasha came home. She worked it out with her family, like you knew she would, and even managed to help most of the Avengers regroup. You met Yelena for the first time, and you immediately liked her. She was so similar yet so different from her sister. You offered to take her shopping one day to get to know each other more. 

Having Natasha back home made sure you were never going to let her go away for that long again. Sure, she went on missions, but both Fury and Natasha would keep you posted, and it was never just one person, there were two or three at once. The time she was gone, she was alone, and that meant that all those thoughts that usually plagued her would’ve got the upper head and she’s too selfless to ring you in the middle of the night telling you about it, not wanting to worry her further, knowing how much you were suffering, not sleeping, waves of nausea from homesickness.

Who's gonna tell me the truth

When you blew in with the winds of fate

And told me I reformed you

When your impressionist paintings of Heaven

Turned out to be fakes

Well, you took me to hell, too 

A few months passed, and Natasha, you, and Yelena became like your own little family. Fury had asked Yelena to train some recruits, which earned her decent pay. She got her own apartment and decorated it with what she wanted, which she dragged you and Natasha out for. 

You and Natasha would stay up late at night talking about everything, often messaging her parents asking how they were doing. They wanted to come and visit you, given how much Natasha talks about you to them, and see how Yelena was getting on with her life. 

The nightmares became a frequent occurrence again for Natasha, and you were there just like you were at the start, pulling her into you or going for a drive, sitting on the balcony, or doing anything she wanted. You were there to see to it. 

Things went relatively back to normal, and you were finally happy again. 

And all at once, the ink bleeds

A con man sells a fool a get-love-quick scheme

That was until the Avengers came calling for another mission. Your blood ran cold. How much more could she take? You wondered, looking over to your wife to find her already looking at you. You knew she needed this; after the previous events of her life, she needed to go and help. She knew you wouldn’t stop her per se, but she could see it pains you to let her go… again. 

But I felt a hole like this

Never before, and ever since

They said they were leaving in 2 hours for Edinburgh, giving you guys some time (but not enough) to say goodbye. You were silent as Natasha packed her bag, put her gear together, put on Yelena’s vest, and chose her weapons and batons hidden in the wall of your bedroom. Natasha didn’t like this any more than you did, leaving you again. She knows how you got when she went away, only this time she didn’t know how long she would be gone. “y’/n” Natasha sighed, wrapping you in her arms. “I’ll come home, I always do.” She laid a soft kiss on your head. “I love you”, you sigh, hugging her back. “I love you most”, she returns. She always did this, it was your thing. From the first time, those words left your lips, she reiterated the reply right back. It was pointless arguing. 

If you know it in one glimpse

It's legendary

What we thought was for all time

Was momentary

The house became empty once again. No Natasha, no random kisses on your head, no unexpected cups of coffee being disposed of in your hands, no incessant typing from her computer of her writing up reports or doing her work from home. You didn’t know what to do with yourself, so you took a shower to bask in the scent of her shampoo and body wash, dressed in her clothes and sat on the couch with a glass of wine and a book. 

You didn’t know what to think. Was she safe? Is she hurt? Your mind was reeling. You must’ve fallen asleep on the couch because when you woke, it was daylight, and you heard Natasha’s sniffles as she walked through the door. You shot up from the couch and the second her eyes met yours her face flooded with relief and she fell to the ground. You didnt know wha had happened so you met her at the floor whilst she wept into your arms. 

Still alive, killing time at the cemetery

Never quite buried

You were heaving by the time Natasha explained everything to you, both of you rushing through your phones to call your family, but there was no answer from any of Natasha’s family. Maria didn’t answer either, nor did your parents. Everyone you loved other than the woman right in front of you was gone. You don’t know how long you and Nat were there on the floor crying; your whole body felt numb, and none of you or the Avengers knew if they were alive or not. 

You cinephile in black and white

All those plot twists and dynamite

Months had passed, and no one had found any type of solution to half of the universe’s population being missing. Natasha was clearly spiralling, and so were you. You and Natasha threw yourselves into working to find a solution, and every time you came up blank or with an error, Nat made a committee with the rest of the survivor Avengers to see if they could come up with something. Each time, there was more and more disappointment. 

Mr. Steal Your Girl, then make her cry

Natasha resorted to dancing, dancing of all things. You always heard classical music while showering or cooking. It made you sad to the bone to know you couldn’t help her. You could be there for her, but you couldn’t help her. You could feel Natasha slipping away. No matter what you tried, she just didn’t feel the same anymore. 

You said I'm the love of your life

“Nat?” you whisper to her in the darkness of her Compound bedroom. You feel her moving, turning to face you. “Yes, my love?” she says, coming to hold your hand. “You’re not here anymore,” you smile sadly, looking down at your hands entwined.

“In times like this, we need… we need to stay together. I don’t want us to lose each other through the loss of everyone else,” you try to say composedly but start to cry at the end. Natasha sighs, pulling you into her. “I know, my love. I’m sorry. I’ll try to do better by you. I’ve been distant, I know, but you’re not any less important to me.” She mutters, kissing your head.

Natasha just held you as you cried into her shoulder, shaking in her embrace, her tears silently falling against your hair. “Please don’t push me away. I need you”, you sob into her, holding her close. Her heart clenches at the vulnerability in your voice. “I’m not going anywhere. I have loved you for ten whole years. I’ve never stopped loving you, and I don’t intend to stop now. Besides, Maria would kick my ass if I ever let anything happen to you,” she says softly, making you laugh airily. 

You talked me under the table

Talking rings and talking cradles

I wish I could un-recall

How we almost had it all

Natasha stuck by her word. She pulled herself back into your orbit. Your words helped her realise that there was nothing that could be done to bring back the others, but she did have you and that she needed to cherish. Reality speaking, she wouldn’t like to even think what state she would be in if you hadn’t made it. The mere thought sends her blood running cold, and she would come and find you to wrap her arms around you, reminding herself that you are, in fact, with her and that you didn’t disappear. 

You and Natasha, alone, except for the occasional drop-in at the compound from one of her avenger friends, set up a nice routine at the place. You two would work out in the morning, then eat dinner together and then spend some alone time together to reconvene for dinner and bedtime in the evening. Not much happened in the compound for the years you were together. Tony was with Pepper and Morgan, Steve was out doing AA meetings, and Clint was AWOL after losing Laura and the kids. 

Dancing phantoms on the terrace

Are they second-hand embarrassed

That I can't get out of bed?

Cause something counterfeit's dead

You Steve and Nat were sat at the table trying to console a breaking Natasha over Clints activities, when a chime rings through the computer systems, you scuttle over to check it to see a guy waving frantically at the camera. “This an old message?” steve says, leaning forward. “It’s the front gate,” says Natasha, looking shocked.  

You sat watching Nat and the two men talk about pym particles and time travel. All of it goes in one ear and out the other for you, yet you can’t help but notice the way Natasha’s posture straightens, and a glimmer of hope seems to shine in her eyes. 

It was legendary

You, Nat, Steve and Scott get out of the car at Tony’s secluded cabin. He said no, you head back. You all tried talking to Bruce, and that was a maybe. You’ve never seen Natasha this hopeful since she went on that mission to help Tony and Steve see where each other was coming from with the accords.

It was momentary

You wake up in the middle of the night to Tony yelling over the phone about how he’s done it and how he will be at the compound the following day.  

It was unnecessary

Everyone was getting geared up. You were softly braiding Natasha’s hair. “Hey, you be careful out there, okay?” you smiled at her in the mirror as she watched you weave her hair into a delicate braid. “Don’t worry, I got this”, she smiles at you, wrapping the hair tie around the end of her hair. Turning around, she smiles at you, pulling you in for a kiss. “I love you, Natalia” You smile against her lips, brushing your nose against hers. “I love you the most, y/n”, she returned, kissing you again. “Come home safe,” you say into her chest, from where she pulled you into a hug. “When do I not?” She says, and you laugh. 

You watch her and the rest of the Avengers stand up onto the time plate and she catches your eye, winking at you before she smiles and says, “See you in a minute.” 

Should've let it stay buried

…

Oh, what a valiant roar

What a bland goodbye

Seconds feel like hours as you wait for them to return. You twiddled your fingers, waiting, waiting and waiting. You’ve spent longer than a minute without nat (clearly), but this one feels like so much more, something feels not right. A rip startles you from your thoughts, and you see Clint on his knees, his eyes wet. No… no, no, no, no, no, no, no. 

Everybody else returns. You don’t notice them, though, as Clint looks directly at you, saying so much more than words. “Cint, where’s Nat?” 

The coward claimed he was a lion

I'm combing through the braids of lies

Everybody turns to look at you. You’re frozen in place, and your chest feels too tight and heavy. Clint walks down to you. “ Y/N,” he says, opening his arms out for you. You collapse. Your whole world gone in a matter of a minute. You don’t know if you’re screaming or crying. Both? Clint cries with you. 

​​"I'll never leave" ...

“She sacrificed herself for you, your sister, her sister laura, everyone”, He cries into you. You’re heaving, your body feeling like it’s being torn in two. The weight of it all unbearable. Everyone quickly left the room to give you and Clint some space, grief settling heavy on them, too. 

"Never mind"

A week had passed since the war, the battle, losing Tony and Nat, and having to tell Yelena and her parents was the hardest thing you ever had to do. Yelena walked out, Alexei punched the walls, and Melina hugged your tear-streamed face, silently shaking. The one good thing the world had ever given to you, and it snatched her right back off of you. 

Our field of dreams, engulfed in fire

“I was thinking if this all goes well, we should get a cat," she says to you, putting on her time suit. 

“A cat?” you ask her, smiling up at her. She’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. “Yeah, you’d be a great cat mom”, she beams at you.

Your arson's match your somber eyes

Maria’s name buzzes on your phone, and you’re quick to turn it off. As much as you love her, you don’t want a pity party, you just want to be left alone. You just now realise that you were home after hours of walking around, your heart crumbling with every tribute poster and art you see decorating walls and windows. You fumble with your keys to get it open. You’re met with two pairs of shoes at the door, yours and Natasha’s, her hair ties on the table next to the door, and one of her artillery belts. Her jacket hung up on the coat rack. She’s everywhere, yet she’s nowhere at all. A small black cat slides up against your leg and you lift her up nuzzling your nose into her head, making her pur and snuggle into you, seemingly sensing your emotional state. 

And I'll still see it until I die

Entering the bedroom seems like an impossible task, knowing you’ll see more of her belongings. You sit on the couch and stare. Then you see a piece of paper on the coffee table you recognise. Picking it up, a dry sob leaves your throat. 

“I love you more, my love, and I always will,” it reads in her perfect handwriting. You can’t stop crying- your lungs feel so full yet so empty, and your head prickles with all the nerves trying to make sense of what is happening. 

You storm into your bedroom into the shower and rid yourself of this heavy, dirty feeling. You scrub and scrub and scrub until your skin is red and raw, and only then do you get out. You dry yourself off, wandering into the closet and pulling on her hoodie, then her sweats, and then you collapse into bed, breathing in her all too familiar scent. The smell wraps around you like her arms would when you were going through a rough patch. Now, the patch is rougher than ever, and she's no longer here.

You turn your phone back on and press call, “Hi there, Natasha here! I’m sorry I can’t take your call right now, I’ll be sure to get back to you,” you call her again and again until you fall asleep listening to the sound of her voice, and the warm fur ball curled up on your chest.

You're the loss of my life.

first time writing angst, PLEASE give me feedback. i beg

[adiluv-moved]

✦ : ❝ 𝐢𝐤𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐢𝐝𝐞 !

꒰synopsis꒱ in which you’re hurt, and it affects scaramouche far more than he’d like to admit. 1165 words.

꒰warnings꒱ angst, non-graphic mentions of injuries and blood, scaramouche needs a hug and a hot cup of tea ꒰as a treat꒱.

꒰adi moment꒱ literally cannot stop naming my fics after songs! genuinely so fun! anyway, it's been a while since i've written any angst, so here's an attempt at writing some for mr. mouche! i hope you enjoy! ໒꒰ྀི..◜ᴗ◝..꒱ྀི১

Bright lights, foreign machinery, gloved hands, white fabric stained red. The oppressive stench of antiseptic weighs heavy in the air, tainted only by the faint hint of something metallic, and were his mechanical body capable of accomplishing such a fear, Scaramouche is certain that it would’ve caused him to faint.

Pushing past patients and staff alike, he comes to deem the hypothetical preferable. A mercy, really, one that his creator was much too cruel to bestow upon him, one that he knew the Doctor would loathe to bless him with. What he wouldn’t give to lie back down on that cold vivisection table, gears and wires jutting out of porcelain skin. To have been in the right place at the right time, to have been attacked in your stead, to see you carrying on at one of the many other Fatui camps, none the wiser as to the tortures he’s endured. For your sake, no less.

꒰Because he could handle it. Because those wounds would heal.꒱

Scaramouche doesn’t think he’ll survive a fourth betrayal. 

He bumps into a particularly rowdy patient, then, catches himself as she’s sent stumbling into a wall. The coat of her uniform, worn proudly atop her medical gown, looks more akin to something out of a Fontainian horror film than official garb, ripped up and stained to an almost unrecognizable state. One of the injured, clearly. One of the other soldiers by your side. So why was it that she could walk around just fine?

The blood drains from her face as she whirls around to confront him, a look of abject horror taking the place of her previous scowl. Static wells up in the air, and she quickly kneels, though her body seems to protest the sudden movement. Insults swirl around in his mind, and Electro gathers at his fingertips, yet he finds himself paralyzed before her, eyebrows furrowed and lips parted as she trembles. Like a leaf caught in the midst of a hurricane.

Somewhere out in the Inazuman countryside, a child plucks one off a branch, bright red pressed against his cheek to match his dutifully applied eyeliner. An abrupt gust of wind rips it from the tiny hand, whisking it away to someplace neither can follow. The boy tries anyway. The puppet finds that he can’t keep up.

꒰The boy slips out of his sight entirely.꒱

The pit within his chest grows impossibly larger, the bāchīs attached to his hat colliding with her figure as he turns around. She breathes out a sigh of relief, and he hears somebody rush over to help her up. He’d deal with it later.

Save for your unconscious body, your hospital room is empty when he arrives. A small table sits before your bed, and a bouquet of unbloomed flowers obscures the view of your face, droplets of water condensing on the surface of the clear vase. This is not done for other patients, he knows. A small part of him can’t help but wonder whether the gesture was for your sake or his.

He’s hardly in control of his limbs as he enters the space, closes his eyes only to see glances of a golden feather and fire and blood dripping out of an ornate, handheld box, and—His fingers curl around the top rail of a chair, pulling it to your bedside. A small, shaky, pathetic noise escapes him as he sits, a hand shooting up to readjust the hat sitting atop his head. The bells attached to it mock him. It takes an embarrassing amount of self-restraint to keep from throwing it across the room, though he eventually settles for laying it onto the floor beside him. 

Scaramouche doesn’t think he’ll survive a fourth betrayal.

There is something fragile, foul, and bloody resting inside of your chest. Like a winding key, almost, he remembers the blacksmiths telling him, a tool that powers humans, not unlike the electricity that powered him. A heart. 

He had wanted one of his own, once, back when he was young and stupid. So he could feel, just as humans felt. So he could love, just as humans loved. So he could be, just as humans did. But he was smarter, now, outgrown the foolish name he’d been given, the banal traditions taught to him, the disgusting emotions that they’d once defiled his hollow chest with. And only now, in some sick twist of fate, was his childish dream finally realized.

꒰What have you done to him?꒱

His fingertips tentatively graze over the middle of your bandaged chest, almost as if you were made of glass, almost as if he feared that his touch might shatter you. He could shatter you, really, if he wanted to; would, even, if it were anybody else lying before him. You’re lucky in that sense, he muses, yet it seemed that not even luck could lessen the extent of your injuries. You were human, after all. Inherently weak. Easily breakable. Why you so foolishly chose to rush into battle rather than wait for his return, he doubts even the Goddess of Wisdom would be able to understand.

꒰He could’ve protected you. Why didn’t you let him protect you?꒱

You don’t stir as he moves his chair closer, wood scraping against wood until his legs are pressed uncomfortably against the side of the mattress. Although he refuses to worship any God, he finds himself praying that your eyes don’t suddenly shoot open to witness him in such a demeaning state. You’ve never taken your wounds seriously, after all, and he doubts he’d be able to handle your asinine nonchalance. More than that, however, should the pain overwhelm you past your limit, he knows he won’t be able to handle your grief.

He sucks in a breath, unnecessary as it is. Then another, only to find it catching in his throat. His hands tremble, and he bows his head. He, the Balladeer. He, the son of Baal. He, a discarded puppet, lays his head directly atop your heart, hangs onto its every beat like a devout, and sullies your bandages with the tears of a failed creation.

You’re here with him. Unconscious, but breathing. It is not enough, but it will do, at least for the time being. Because you’ll wake up. Because you have to. Because he loves you, like a fool, like humans do.

Because Scaramouche doesn’t think he’ll survive a fourth betrayal.

A nurse enters your room the next morning, golden rays of light streaming through the window and onto your bed. The Balladeer sleeps alongside you, hands clutching desperately onto the fabric of the thick coat now carefully draped over your body. His makeup is smudged, red eyeliner streaking down his face, the gorgeous strands of his indigo hair splayed out messily around him. They consider waking him, though the thought is quickly abandoned. Even they know to choose their battles wisely. 

꒰A tear slides down his cheek. They close the door behind them when they leave.꒱

[natailiatulls07]

Haunted house

Oscar Piastri x female!reader

Summary - McLaren are doing a haunted house halloween video and Oscar manages to rope in his girlfriend

Warning - Blood (fake), swearing, chainsaw (fake), clowns, spiders and a mention of the exorcist??

A/n - Another first timer today!! I love Oscar!! 🤍

23 Halloween season

-

When Oscar told me that McLaren were doing a Halloween challenge video for their YouTube channel and had offered Oscar to rope me in, I was excited. Growing up I Ioved Halloween; dressing up, getting free sweets and watching spooky movies, they were just so exciting to me.

Naturally I grew up but yet I still held that love for the holiday. So that’s why I agree and now I’m in the passenger seat of Oscars car on our way to the secret location.

Every so often he was gently rub his thumb across my thigh, we were have a light conversation between ourselves.

Eventually, Oscar pulled in a car park when the McLaren social media team and Lando were stood around just talking and most likely waiting for our arrival. “Ah the couple has arrived!” The Brit was the first to notice us and announce our arrival.

Getting out the car, I was grateful that I decided to wear a large cream wool sweater because the weather felt nippy. “Hey dude!” Oscar and Lando greeted each other with a quick fist bump. It was soon followed by a quick side hug between me and Lando.

-

The McLaren pr manager was quick to fill us in with the details of the video; we all would be going into the haunted house, go through the different sections and then come back out at the end. Simple as that.

At this point though, thats when my nerves kicked in. I started to get anxious but I didn't want to show that emotion, knowing that if I did Oscar would make me not do it.

The team started to film, before Lando and Oscar explaining the video to the viewers. "Hey guys! So today me, Lando and Y/n are going to do this super fun haunted house!" There's sarcasm in his voice when he says 'super fun', which makes both me and Lando laugh together.

Lando manages to compost himself. "There will be multiple different sections to the house, however we don't know what the sections are and what they're like" I look over to the entrance of the house and cringe. "So let's go!"

We all start to walk towards the entrance with the camera man behind us. "Ladies first..." As if insync, Lando and Oscar move to allow me to walk in first which I quickly say thank you to and walk inside despite my nerves.

Once inside, it's pitch black. I can hear distant noises which I cannot describe, foreign noises. A hand goes to grasp mine and I jump at the sudden contact. "It's me, sweetheart" Oscars australian accent comes from behind me in the darkness.

"Oh god...we're two steps in and Oscars already being all lovey dovey" The Brit from what sounds like behind Oscar complains.

"You're such a child!" Oscar moans as to which laugh along with him.

After walking about five steps through the darkness, we come to another door. Making our way through the door, I'm greeted with walls decorated in thousands of tiny orange, blue and green glow in the dark dotes. "Oh this is cute!" I comment but immediately regret my words when a glow in the dark clown starts jumping out on us.

"AH FUCK!" Lando shouts, even though he is the furthest back out of the three of us. The bright clown laughs hideously and starts making his way towards me.

I'm suddenly pull back by my hand, the hand that Oscar has ahold of. Colliding with his chest I feel him quickly moving us past the clown onto the next section.

Just as we made it past the clown, the two of us hear Lando again. "You ain't scary bitch!" There's a pause. "AH Wait fuck, maybe you are!"

Oscar leans his head down, so that his mouth is next to my ear. "Are you okay?" He whispers, and in that moment I feel alone and disconnected from the world with him.

Nodding my head. "Yeah, it was cute and then that fucker came. But yeah I'm okay" I lean up to give him a quick kiss on the lips before looking around at the next section.

There's a bloody operation table, laid on top is a little girl dressed in a long white gown. Her hair long, black and extremely tangled. Around us, looks like an old operating room yet the walls, much like the table, is covered in crimson blood.

You know instantly when Lando has entered because of his uncontrolable reaction. "EW! WTF" I find myself laughing at his childish reaction to the section, Oscar laughs along with me.

Lights start flashing and we all turn to the girl on the table. Noticing how she is now slowly moving up into a sitting up position. "Oh and she lives, just fucking brilliant!" McLarens British driver comments sarcastically.

Once she sits up, her waist turns so she is now facing us. "Help me! Help! He's going to kill me!" Just as she finishes her sentance, we all hear the whirring of a chainsaw behind us as to which we all turn. Coming face to face with a tall and broad man, in his hands there's a chainsaw and much like the rest of the room covered in blood.

He jumps forward, more so my way, causing me to scream out in fright. "I need another body...yours will do" He smiles disturbingly.

“Yeah fuck this, no way are you coming after my girl sir!” This took both me and Lando by surprise as Oscar was never one to react this much openly. He quickly moves us out of the room, Lando still behind us when he says “Yeah that’s right bitch! Back off!” Followed by his high pitch laugh and a high pitch scream, also from Lando.

-

We all collectively make our way through the rest of the haunted house, coming across a spider themed room and a exorcist themed room. As usual, Lando is making little comments and screams the whole way through.

Admittedly on some of the room, either me or Oscar join in Landos terrified comments.

I push through the long bunting across the door way, we come out of the haunted house. A camera team is set up awaiting our post haunted house reactions.

“That was fun!” I comment which earns me a dirty look from Lando, and a laugh from Oscar who has his arms wrapped around my waist.

Both Oscar and Lando are quick to make a outro, wrapping up the video. After talking with the media team and Lando, me and Oscar get back into his car making our way home.

“Thank you for inviting me today baby” I say, looking over at Oscar who is focusing on the road.

“It’s alright, plus I needed someone to put up with Lando so thank you!” Pulling up to a red light, Oscar takes my hand and kisses my knuckles gently.

-

Tag list - @ilovechickenwings @carlossainzwho @ipab @erikasurfer @soph1644

[chqrmperscn]

mason gooding x male reader

love from the backseat.

after leaving a movie premiere, you and mason find yourself entangled inside a limo on the way home…

content warning; deep throating, public sex, gagging, spitting, handjob, blowjob (r!giving), celebrity reader, verbal, rough-sex, size difference, choking, praise kink, car sex, cum in pants.

flashing lights. buzzing conversations. hundreds of bodies. people rushed all around you as you posed in front of them on the red carpet. celebrating the release of your movie had all eyes drawn to you as cameras clicked repeatedly to showcase you in all your glory. you looked down the carpet at your other cast mates, watching them bask in the light of the cameras. one caught your eyes though- mason gooding, your co-lead in the film. you shared a lot of screentime with him, and the chemistry between you two had become quite palpable. So by the time the film had wrapped, you two had become a thing- albeit in private.

you both preferred the solitude of a private relationship anyways, less eyes prying and easier to navigate. one camera flash called your attention- right, the ever expanding crowd before you. a couple smiles to keep the cameras happy and then you were off the carpet for some downtime.

it wasn’t long until people with microphones began stepping closer to you, eager to ask questions about your upcoming film. “tell us, who was the most fun cast member on set!” a woman in red asked. “the critics have been raving over your film! do you think it’ll live up to the expectations?” a shorter reporter with thicker glasses asked. “What was the most fun scene to film?”

the questions were rapid fire and came one after the other and the other. you tried your best to respond, but found yourself tripping over some words a bit, mostly due to nerves. while answering, pressure seemed to appear on your lower back until the fabric of another suit appeared by your side. mason stood right next to you- personal space a foreign concept. “yeah, uhh- no debate. i’m definitely his favorite cast member to hang out with!” mason joked, placing an arm around you. a smile burned its way onto your face as the reporters asked more and more questions, to which mason gladly took initiative on for you.

the reporters eventually died down and the premiere was hitting its climax as people headed towards the theater to watch your project. mason walked close by with you, his arm still around your neck. you could feel his bicep touch the hair on your neck, the warmth through the fabric; and just how tight it felt on his muscular figure. before you could focus too much on the slab of meat hanging onto you a voice spoke an inquisitive “fun interview?” mason inquired, staring down at you. you stared back up at him, and replied with a short but responsive “yes, but very curious.”

you two quickly found your seats and the lights inside the theater dimmed. the audience would quiet as they were enamored by the picture on display before them. your focused was drawn into your film on screen and nothing seemed to break it, until you could feel mason’s hand atop your own. you watch as he moves it from the armrest to his thigh… and eventually to his crotch. you feel the immense heat radiating from it and the rigid rod that seems to be hiding inside his suit pants. mason leans closer into your ear, his breath causing the hairs on your neck to stand up and your body temperature to flare up. “i need you babe… soon.”

your hand pulled itself back on instinct, what if someone saw? but you turned to face mason, his eyes low as they stared back into yours, his face a playful smile. “soon, not now.” you mutter back, feeling your own pants tighten at the interaction you two had. the rest of the movie seems to fade into obscurity as you think about the things you and mason will be up to later…

the premiere is over. the crowd loves your movie and claps as the credits roll. you’re almost surprised at the reception, but feel affirmed with the sheer amount of praise the film gets. soon after you’re escorted out from the theater and to your limo. cameras click as you get inside and once the door closes, you can finally take a deep breath. your eyes close at the muffled silence, finally being able to relax. so comfortable, in fact, that you don’t even realize mason sitting next to you, his hands rubbing against your inner thigh.

“sorry, couldn’t wait. i need you now.” he says, squeezing your thigh and moving in to breathe on your neck. you twitch under his touch, feeling his large hands tour your body. the heat between the two of you flares as he pulls your chin towards him to swallow your lips into a kiss. you envelop him in your arms as you pull him in deeper, matching the energy in the kiss all you can. your back gets pressed up against the passenger door as he puts all his weight into you.

“wait. let me get on my knees,” you say. mason pulls away for a moment and you shuffle around to find your knees on the floor of the car seat, feeling the car vibrate in your knees as it drives. you look up at mason who looks back. you can take in the sheer mass of him and his body, his thighs bulging from inside his suit. you can tell from the thick outline trailing down his inner thigh that mason is rock hard- like a sheathed sword in his pants. your hands don’t stay idle for long as you make way to his belt buckle and undo it in impressive speed. you’re hungry for this.

the belt pops open and you rub his dick through his pants leg, feeling just how stiff it is inside his pants. you take it out as it stands at full attention before your eyes. mason was long, you knew this- this wasn’t the first time he’d been brandished before you in his almighty glory. he had to be no less than 7 inches while erect, and with the way pre-cum coagulated around his tip, you had to be quick.

your tongue licked him vertically from bottom to top, releasing an explicit groan from mason as he gripped the door handles. both your hands were required to hold the dick and still some excess was left over. saliva gathered in your mouth and you spit on the man’s dick, rubbing it in with your hands over his cock. you felt his thighs throb at the pace you moved, rubbing it in like lotion. you jerked him off and with every stroke, his hips began to jerk into your hands.

he bit his lip to quiet his pleasure from your hands, but once you opened your mouth and began to swallow his dick whole did that idea go out the window. you hollowed your cheeks to be able to fit him all the way in, and there was still about 3 inches left that you couldn’t fit in. your hands went down to fondle his balls while you made sure that you felt comfortable taking down what you could. spit could be felt all around your mouth. “f-ffuck,” mason groaned out as his head fell backwards. “do-ddo that again.”

you obeyed as you toyed further with his balls, hearing him moan more under your touch. you could feel him jerk his hips further into your mouth, fucking his dick further into your mouth. “good boy,” he muttered out. you choked a bit, but he slowed his pace for a moment. spit drenched your chin and some managed to get upon your suit from the way his dick moved inside your mouth. you tugged his suit pants down further, feasting your eyes upon the meaty and hairy thighs hiding inside them. mason found a grip inside your hair and with unmatched strength guided your head up and down his cock. the inches you were comfortable with suddenly had you deep throating the entire thing down to the base. you gargled on his cock, saliva coating his cock like a thick blanket.

you would somehow find it in yourself to come up for air. your mouth became free from his dick as you took in some deep breaths, and even coughed a little. in the downtime of your mouth, you went to jerk him with your hands, feeling the thick saliva coat stain your hands. his body quivered at the touch, shaking just with the way your hands went up and down on him. “that dick is fucking big mason,” you said as you repositioned to swallow it once more.

“then take it all.” mason would say. his legs went around your neck and pulled you in further and his hands fell into your hair once again, forcing you down all the way on his cock with no way back up. you choked further and further, mason thrusting into you like you were just some type of toy. “yeah, take it all the way down. fuckin’ bitch boy.” you felt your cheeks burn as you were stuck all the way down. you put your hands on his thighs, rubbing at them as you were forced to take his dick in all its glory.

mason began to twitch, his thrusts became much more hurried and sloppy inside your mouth as he lost control of the strength in his thighs. “i-i’mm gonna cum. you’re gonna have to swallow… i-in case there’s people at the hotel.” he informs you as his body shakes from your tongue. your tongue swirls around his cock as best as it can, your hands return to his balls, you do everything you can to make him cum.

mason’s legs tremble and jitter as the inside of your mouth is painted with his nut, the sheer volume causing some of it to leak outside of your mouth. you try to swallow you can. mason’s breaths slow down as he releases your neck from his muscles. you pull out from his dick and see a trail mixed with cum and saliva between your mouth and his dick. you look down at yourself, your clothes drenched in sweat, saliva, and your own load of cum inside your pants. he rubs at your head, giggling from the cumshot he face you.

you look up at mason, your eyes red from the choking.

“can you spend the night?”